What I Wish You Knew
by LillyMayFlower
Summary: Lily Chao is everything Ethan Hardy is not: sure of herself, confident she's not going wrong and comfortable in her profession. She can't get the measure of him at all, because he can barely string a sentence together. Ethan loves medicine, but surely there will come a point where his struggle means Connie must consider his position at Holby City Hospital.
1. Chapter 1 - Prologue

**Hi there, I hope you like my new story :) It'll be mostly from Ethan's perspective, seeing as the story's pretty much solely about him (I really like writing him, I think he's a really interesting character) but there will also be parts from both Zoe and Lily.**

 **I sort of told myself when I started writing fic that I wouldn't start one without finishing another, but I've broken my own rule, seeing as Demons isn't quite finished yet! This just seems very relevant to me at the moment, so I had to start writing it.**

 **This is just the prologue, so it's not as long as I'd usually like a chapter to be, but please leave me a review and let me know what you think!**

Zoe knew there was something different about Ethan, the moment he stepped back into the ED after having taken two weeks off work to try and come to terms with the loss of his mother. He looked drained, like he'd been worrying permanently for days. He was wearing a cardigan, but the cuffs of the sleeves were wrinkled as though they'd been pulled down over his hands for most of the journey to work. His cheeks turned pink when she said "Good morning" although she'd said it to him every day before he'd gone away on compassionate leave. He dropped his gaze to avoid making eye contact with everyone, instead heading straight to the locker room to change into his scrubs, and collecting the patient notes he needed, without making conversation with anyone.

In truth, the only thing keeping Ethan going at the moment was medicine. Not the kind you take when you're ill. The kind that meant being a doctor, the kind you feel as a calling at the age of eleven, and the kind that you refuse to give up on even though it keeps you awake at night, writing lengthy essays and taking endless notes. He had an undying gratitude for the doctors who had done everything they could, and for the nurses who had stayed by his mother's side in her last moments, and now that he was trying to put all that behind him, medicine was getting him up in the morning, giving him a reason for being.

But neither medicine that meant being a doctor, nor medicine that doctors prescribed, was enough to push away the feeling of panic that could erupt for no reason, at any time. It couldn't stop him being terrified of being back in the hospital where he'd once felt so at home. There was nothing to be done about the pure dread that coursed through his veins when a decision rested solely on his shoulders. The fear of losing control in the middle of treating a critically ill patient was too real for Ethan to relax. He felt sick remembering that for the rest of his career people's lives would literally depend on him getting everything right. It had been enough to keep him awake far too late the night before his return to Holby City Hospital, re-reading old notes in case there was something there that could prepare him to save a life the next day. He had scanned the page carefully, raking every line, but the words seemed to jumble together in a tangle of black ink and words that were too long for him to properly understand. What if there was something within this mess of letters and symbols that would make the difference between life and death? What if the answer to a critical diagnosis lay between these lines and he couldn't fathom them into coherent thoughts? Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, he'd tried to remind himself that no, he was a good doctor, there's no way he would have been hired otherwise. Certainly Connie Beauchamp would never allow him to stay in her Emergency Department if he was not up to scratch.

Zoe watched the young registrar's retreating figure and saw a marked difference from the enthusiastic young doctor she'd hired. Right down to the way he walked, he looked as though the fate of the entire world was resting on his shoulders, which were rounded and slightly hunched, only drawing attention to the fact that he was looking at the ground instead of where he was going. His hands, hanging by his sides, were clenching and unclenching, tight fists into stiff starfishes, his fingers spread out but tensely straight. She couldn't help herself worrying about him. This wasn't right. Maybe he was still grieving. She'd give him a couple of days to find his feet, then she'd intervene if things didn't look any better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the lengthy hiatus, I've been trying to balance writing with college work, and things in college have been a bit sketchy of late. Hopefully this (admittedly very long) chapter will make up for the wait :)**

Sitting at the breakfast table, Ethan poured milk onto his cereal and sprinkled sugar over the cornflakes in his bowl. He stirred a tiny amount of milk into his cup of tea. Tuning the radio into a classical station, he forced himself to concentrate on the music rather than what he was eating. This was his attempt to achieve two objectives in one go. He wasn't thinking about the cereal, so it was much easier to get something into his stomach to set him up for the day, and trying to focus in so tightly on the music meant that he could almost control the wave of anxiety permeating through every fibre of his body. Almost.

Driving to work, his heart sank as the petrol light lit up on the dashboard. He drove into the nearest garage and pulled up next to the nearest pump, and was dismayed to find that he's stupidly selected one that didn't have the option to pay at the pump, so as to avoid going into the shop. The forecourt was completely empty, but Ethan was not about to reverse his car into a different pump. Steeling himself, he filled the tank and walked into the shop, trying his utmost to look nonchalant. There was a very slight tremble in his hands as his picked up a bar of chocolate from beside the counter, and he silently berated himself for almost dropping it onto the counter in front of him as he spoke to the attendant.

"Um." He quickly glanced out of the window, feeling extremely stupid as he realised he wouldn't have to give the number of the pump. His was the only car on the forecourt. "Number four, please," he said. He'd started the sentence, so it was only right to finish it.

The attendant didn't bat an eyelid: it was early in the morning and the young man (dressed very smartly for this time of day, she had to note) looked a little tired. She told him the price and wondered why it took him two attempts to slot his debit card into the reader. He looked nervous. Judging by his suit, he looked as though he had an important meeting to attend.

"Have a good day," she said airily, as he picked up his chocolate, folded his receipt neatly into his pocket and left the shop.

"Thank you. I – um – you too," Ethan said quietly.

He parked in the car park of Holby ED in the same spot as he always used. It was a little way from the front door, and the main thoroughfare of the staff who walked to work, which meant it was far less likely that anyone would see him trying to park his car. In reality, Ethan's parking skills were immaculate, but he was so self-critical that he couldn't allow himself to see his strengths, even when they were as minor as faultless parallel parking.

"Morning Ethan," Zoe said brightly, as the young registrar crossed the department, heading for the locker room. "You're looking very smart this morning," she went on, referencing his shirt and jacket. She'd tried to drop little boosts into conversation with him since he'd first returned to the department, in the hope that it might up his shattered confidence a little. He ducked his head a little, nearly unnoticeably, not knowing how to accept the compliment. Zoe bit her lip, but was immediately distracted by Max placing a cardboard cup of coffee on the front desk, directly in front of her.

"Caramel latte, _with_ double shots of coffee, before you ask," he said, leaving a quick kiss on the side of her neck before heading off into the department.

"You're a life saver!" she called to him, while keeping an eye on Ethan's retreating form. His hands were in his pockets, from what she could see, and his shoulders were ever so slightly rounded. He didn't stand up nearly as straight as he used to. Zoe frowned into her coffee.

Lily Chao dismounted her moped in the car park and removed her helmet. Running a hand across her tousled hair, she resolved to re-plait it once she was in her scrubs. She walked into the department with her shoulders back, carrying an air of confidence that Zoe wished she could split between the two young doctors. Lily's confidence was impressive, if a little in-your-face, and she got the job done exceptionally well. It was just a matter of her not bonding with the other members of the team as well as they'd like her to. And she had a rather irritating habit of rubbing people up the wrong way. In the last few weeks in particular, Zoe had noticed Lily's obvious impatience with Ethan, as his confidence began to deteriorate. It wasn't bad enough to merit any kind of warning, or even a mention to the Clinical Lead, but it didn't sit well with the consultant, not when she could see Ethan's face fall every time Lily left him with cutting remarks and a stern glare.

"Good morning Dr Hanna," Lily said calmly. That was another stark difference between the two younger doctors – Ethan rarely initiated conversation with his superiors unless it was over a patient.

"Good morning Lily," Zoe returned, her mind still firmly on Ethan. "Ready for the day?"

"I'm always ready," Lily said with a smile. "A new day means something new to learn, and more patients depending on me. It's what I live for." No-one could doubt Lily's passion for medicine, but then, everyone in the ED lived from the buzz which followed saving a life.

"I'm glad to hear it," Zoe said. "I'll see you in resus shortly, no doubt, we've got an RTC heading our way, with multiple casualties."

"I'll be there, you'll need all hands on deck." Lily's didn't waste words; she was highly efficient and there was no arguing that this was a required skill in an A&E department. But there was something almost cold about her attitude sometimes. Zoe's first thought when she heard about the RTC had been along the lines of "there's a family involved, we need to make sure those children have parents at the end of the day, and vice versa." The consultant couldn't help herself thinking that Lily's first thought had been that these were simply new cases – sometimes they all wondered whether Lily saw the bigger picture at all.

Both Lily and Ethan ended up working on the casualties from the RTC, as more arrived than Zoe had anticipated. She and Connie took a pregnant woman, Dylan took her husband and Lily and Ethan were assigned to the couple's young daughter. She looked about eight but was barely responsive. Ethan protectively held the girl's hand while Lily made the initial checks, which earned him one of Lily's signature disapproving looks. In the name of efficiency, however, she didn't question him. She continued with her work and issued sharp statements about the girl's condition, which Ethan immediately took heed of and reluctantly let go of her small, cool hand.

"Do we know her name yet?" he asked as he hung up a bag of saline on a drip stand.

"Her name is irrelevant in resolving her medical issues, Ethan." The blonde doctor blushed, and he broke eye contact with Lily to continue with his work.

"I know," he said quietly, "I just thought that maybe she'd be more comforted if we were using her name, rather than just calling her our patient."

"But she _is_ our patient," Lily persisted. Ethan didn't keep up the argument, it wasn't worth it and it wasn't helping the little girl before them for her doctors to be bickering. He allowed Lily to take the lead and complete the most important task at hand: securing the girl's airway, but once she was stable he gently cleaned the cuts on her face, a hand under her chin to keep her completely still. Zoe looked over and felt proud of the registrar for taking such care with his patient. Knowing she shouldn't have favourites in the department, she mentally praised Lily's accuracy in removing the shards of glass from her patient's legs. Zoe's heart dropped and her attention snapped back to her own patient when the monitors around the bed started beeping worryingly. It was an impossible choice: a mother or a baby. A momentarily lapsed concentration had allowed her heart to cloud her mind.

"Connie, I don't know what to do," she said, hopelessly lost and fighting to keep her emotions out of the situation. She was relieved, she could always rely on the clinical lead to keep a cool head and maintain rationality in the toughest of situations.

"We have to fight to save the mother first," Connie said plainly. "It's extremely unlikely that a baby at this period of gestation will survive to the same level as the mother, if we act now. We can't save them both."

"No, I appreciate that. I'll phone up to theatre then." Connie nodded gravely, for a millisecond showing that she did have a heart and she wasn't just a medical machine.

The woman's husband overheard this from his resus bay, and tears began to tumble down his cheeks. Dylan, having stabilised the man but having enough heart left in him to allow his patient to hear the fate of his family, rather awkwardly offered him a tissue, which was gratefully accepted although made little difference.

"My daughter, the one being treated over there," he began between uneven breaths, "I heard the young bloke ask her name, and I think it's wonderful that he cares so much. It's Emilia, if you wouldn't mind telling him, please." Dylan nodded, pleased to have a reason not to stay and be confronted with tears that he didn't know how to solve.

"Ethan, Lily, the girl's name is Emilia, her father just told me and was honoured that you thought to ask," he said. Ethan smiled a little, but Lily didn't respond.

"She's almost stable, but she'll need to remain intubated until we can bring her round in a few hours," she said, as though she hadn't heard Dylan at all. "Her name makes no difference, it's not me who wanted to know."

"Thank you, Dr Keogh," Ethan said, trying to resist the shake in his voice. "Did you hear that, Emilia? Your dad's been asking about you, and we're going to wake you up very soon." Lily rolled her eyes. The girl couldn't have been more than eight years old, she wouldn't understand most of what had happened since her arrival, even if she could hear them. In Ethan's mind, however, whether she could understand or not didn't matter. It was a case of caring that she was a vulnerable child in a scary situation – if she _could_ hear them, he was sure she'd rather hear people call her by name.

As the three cases drew to a close, the doctors prepared themselves to move on to their next tasks of the day. Lily moved on to cubicles with barely a thought of what had gone before. Ethan admired her for this: he knew that however much he concentrated on other patients today, the look of fear on that father's face would remain at the back of his mind. He admired Lily full stop. She was happy working with people all day, she lived from the satisfaction of getting things right. Ethan was confused, even his thoughts weren't coming out clearly. Of course he lived from the satisfaction of success, it was just the working with people that tended to cause an issue of late.

Connie retreated to her office to return to her usual self – she hated that she'd had to be the one to call time on the her patient's unborn child, but it was that or lose them both. Zoe was equally distraught, but wore her emotions on her sleeve far more than the Clinical Lead. She wiped her eyes as she left resus with Dylan, and let out a frustrated sigh to see streaks of mascara along her thumbs.

"You know that there was nothing more you could have done, don't you?" Dylan checked, aware of exactly why this case was hurting his best friend so much.

"Yeah, and I'm fine, I'm okay, don't worry. I just..." She didn't know how to finish her sentence, she couldn't describe the feelings bubbling inside her. Luckily, with Dylan, she didn't have to.

"Look, I'll cover for you if Connie has a go about it, just take five minutes and get your head together, all right? I understand why it's hard for you."

"Thank you, but I'm really okay." She paused for a moment. "On second thoughts, would you mind covering for Ethan as well?" Dylan raised his eyebrows questioningly, but decided Zoe wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary. He nodded.

Zoe went in search of the registrar, and it wasn't long before she found him. As she entered the locker room, she tapped on the door to alert him of her presence, but despite this, Ethan jumped in surprise and looked up with a momentary expression of fear that Zoe would have missed, had she not been looking for it. He looked down at once, embarrassed by his reaction.

"Ethan, would you mind coming down to my office for a few minutes, please?" she asked gently. Ethan opened his mouth with the intention to speak, and for a few seconds no words came out at all. He sighed in frustration and shot Zoe a look of combined apology and cry out for help. "It's okay, take your time." He gathered himself together before replying.

"Yes. I mean – no, I wouldn't mind." He silently berated himself again. This wasn't a difficult exchange, why couldn't he just function like everybody else?


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews so far, I really appreciate them. Writing a chapter a week seems to suit my current workload quite well, so I think I'll stick at this rythym for now (once half term rolls around I'm sure I'll be able to write a bit more, and I look forward to it every day!) I hope you enjoy this chapter, let me know what you think with a review please :)**

Ethan sat opposite Zoe in her office, his hands tying themselves in knots in his lap. A plethora of thoughts were spinning through his mind. He was trying to decide what he would say, and indeed what the consultant would ask in the first place, whilst battling the worry that no words would come out at all. The rational portion of his brain mulled over what his answer would be to the simple question of what was wrong. He didn't quite know, exactly. The bigger, more dominant part of his brain told him that he couldn't be a doctor and carry on like this, he'd been called here for a reason and it wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation. As usual, the rational side of his brain was beaten and in the seconds leading up to Zoe starting to speak, Ethan felt his heart speed up and his mouth was suddenly bone dry. He looked down at his hands, then switched his focus to the texture of his scrub trousers, because looking at his hands reminded him of how panicky this situation was making him feel. Normal people didn't sit in offices and wring their hands until they were half-numb, their thumbnails digging into their palms. Normal people didn't wring their hands full stop.

Zoe looked the registrar up and down, trying to get the measure of him. It was what she'd done when she first met him, and it was like a new man had taken his place.

"I realise this is probably the most unhelpful advice you'll get all day, but try not to worry, Ethan," she began slowly, in a calm tone that she hoped would put him at ease. "I didn't bring you here to have a go at you, or to point out where you're going wrong."

 _Then why am I here?_ Ethan asked himself, although he knew the answer as soon as he visualised the question. "As far as your effort goes, honestly you haven't changed. I mean, if anything, you're trying harder now than before..." She didn't voice the reason for the change in Ethan. "I'm just worried about you. You're not you, you don't seem like you're coping too well at the moment."

"I'm fine," Ethan said quickly.

"And that immediately tells me that you're not," she responded. "I've seen it Ethan. When you started here you stood at least two inches taller than you do now." She spoke a little more softly. "You accepted compliments gracefully, rather than hiding yourself away. Your voice didn't shake when you spoke to people." Ethan's head snapped up and he looked her dead in the eye. "Even Dylan can see it, Ethan, and he's hardly the most observant person around here, is he?"

"No, I suppose not," Ethan said, shaking his head sadly. "I just... I wouldn't know where to start, I don't know how to tell you anything, Zoe, it's just so chaotic in my head and I can't force all the thoughts into coherent sentences." He was surprised to see Zoe crack a small smile.

"I haven't heard you say so much for days," she said. "Just know that I'm here, and that you don't have to force yourself to cope on your own. I won't let you struggle alone, Ethan. If you find the words, I will always be prepared to listen."

"But what about..." he tailed off, not sure whether he would be talking out of turn or not.

"Connie will have to put up with having two doctors missing for a little while, won't she?" Zoe said, guessing what was contributing to Ethan's malaise. "And if it makes you more comfortable, this conversation can stay between us. Although I'm sure you will appreciate that there might come a point where she needs to be aware of what's going on." Ethan nodded uneasily, pressing his lips together. Half of him wanted desperately to tell her how he felt every time he had to open his mouth, and how he constantly belittled himself and wondered whether he was getting anything right. The other half kept him resolutely silent.

Zoe dismissed Ethan from her office a few minutes later, wishing he'd found the confidence to speak a little more. There was something on his mind, something weighing down heavily upon him, and she wanted to make it easier for him, but until he found away around this barrier, there wasn't much that she could do. And she really didn't want to go behind Ethan's back, but Zoe knew that this really couldn't stay between them for long. If she'd seen what she thought she had, whatever _this_ was, it was beginning to muscle in on Ethan's usually excellent treating of patients, and if that continued, Connie simply couldn't be kept in the dark. Thinking rationally, she decided that if the registrar hadn't come forward with an explanation after three days, she would go to the Clinical Lead regardless. With a pang, she realised that it was likely that Ethan's reasoning would drive her to Connie's office anyway.

Treating an elderly gentleman in cubicle three, Ethan forced himself to keep his hands occupied, holding a bottle of antiseptic solution in one hand and a cotton wool pad in the other, to stop himself tying his hands in knots in front of him. He worked diligently to clean the cut on the his patient's leg, but didn't make any conversation at all except to ask him how it had happened, and whether he was up to date on his vaccinations. Caught it on the fence, and no, he didn't think he needed them at his age. Ethan was quiet again after this short exchange, dressing the cut and then preparing a tetanus jab. As he signed the discharge papers, the grey-haired man spoke again.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" he said. Ethan felt his cheeks turn pink.

"I'm afraid not," Ethan replied. "I'm no good at small talk, I'd rather just get the job done."

"And I really appreciate it," the man went on, sending a wave of relief over Ethan. "That nurse who brought me in before, the one with flowers in her hair, she could talk for England and I'm just not into idle chatter. It was nice to have some peace."

"Um – I – thank you," Ethan stammered, feeling his heart speed up as he wondered how normal people responded to compliments. He sighed, wishing he could disguise the fact he could barely get out a coherent sentence without sounding like a blithering idiot.

At the end of the shift, Ethan changed out of his scrubs and back into his shirt and trousers. He pulled his coat over his shoulders and looped his scarf around his neck, before heading back out into the department to walk to the car park. The usual team were gathering around the front desk, rallying more of the troops to join them for a drink in the pub.

"Are you up for it Ethan?" Rita said kindly, turning towards Ethan as he passed them. He hadn't been listening, so concentrating on not tripping as he walked across the department, that he blushed as he asked her to repeat herself. "Would you like to join us for a drink tonight?" she said, smiling as she rephrased the question to try and put him at ease. She'd seen something different about him these days as well, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Oh, um, sorry, I've – uh – got a thing, I mean, I can't make it tonight, maybe another time? Sorry Rita, everyone, I would have liked to, but..."

"Oh come off it," Cal joked. "You just don't want to show off how much of a lightweight you are – we all heard what happened in Magaluf." They all laughed, except Rita, although Ethan's cheeks burned.

"Shut up Cal," she said, leaping to Ethan's defence as he looked so uncomfortable. "It's not a problem at all Ethan, another time though?"

"D-definitely," Ethan agreed, already wondering how long it would be before he'd have to find another excuse.


	4. Chapter 4

**Didn't expect to have another chapter written this weekend, so surprise! Inspiration struck so I had to get this written, I hope you like it.**

 **theverystuffoflife: I hope this goes some way to explain Lily, or at the very least starts you guessing on why I've written her like I have!**

Midway through his shift, Ethan took a much-needed break. Unlike the rest of his colleagues, who usually stayed in the staffroom during their breaks, Ethan only stopped there for a few minutes. He made a cup of tea, then took it out into the Peace Garden at the back of the Hospital. The air was surprisingly cold, compared to inside, and a light breeze ruffled his hair. The steam rising from his cup fogged up the lenses of his glasses as he took a long drink, appreciative of five minutes' peace.

Meanwhile, Lily was just starting her shift. After changing into her turquoise scrubs and hanging her stethoscope around her neck, she set off into the department. Connie assigned her cubicles one to three, knowing that the younger doctor was capable of handling multiple tasks at once. Skim-reading the notes, Lily made quick decisions on who needed treatment first, then strode into cubicle two, pulling back the curtain with such force that she made Rita (who had been taking the patient's obs) nearly jump out of her skin.

"Goodness Lily, it's like the SAS were barging in on me!" she said, offering a smile which Lily didn't return. Instead, she formulaically asked Rita for the patient's obs, before asking for bloods and further investigatory tests to be undertaken. Rita made sure that Lily had turned to check the patient herself, before rolling her eyes at the doctor's back. A 'please' would not have hurt, but Rita continued with her work as she would do for anyone else.

A 'thank you' would not have gone amiss either.

Having been called into resus by Connie, Lily didn't have to stand by bay three for long before her patient arrived.

"Right, this is Emily Carter, eighteen, sustained serious burns from a house fire," Iain said, quickly and calmly. "Partial thickness up her arms and shoulders, worse on her hands. GCS has been twelve since we arrived at the scene, BP normal, sats of 94%, she'd been trapped for a while so needs treatment for smoke inhalation, and resps not as strong as we'd like them for someone of her age."

"Thank you," Lily said, absorbing Iain's words and scanning her eyes over her patient. She spent a few seconds working out exactly what to do, and this was three seconds too long. Dylan's disapproving voice drifted over her shoulder.

"Everything all right over here?" he asked, having spotted Lily looking a little lost.

"Absolutely fine," she replied, having gathered her thoughts. She launched into action, and good thing too, since Emily's airway was swiftly closing up from the burns she'd sustained from smoke inhalation, not to mention the fact that the skin across her chest was so charred that she could barely breathe anyway. "I know what I'm doing." Dylan decided to stay put anyway, because as a junior doctor Lily might _think_ she knew enough to cope with this case alone, but in all likelihood she'd probably need help soon. He took up the usual secondary doctor position at the head of the bed, just waiting. To his surprise, Lily's confidence was not unfounded – in theory she knew _exactly_ what she was doing, he only needed to step in to make sure the escharotomy was carried out exactly right. Lily made the cuts in the patient's skin almost perfectly. Once the patient was stable, and had been moved to a ward, even Dylan, stubborn as he was, had to admit that Lily had done well.

"For a junior doctor, that was stellar work, Dr Chao," he said.

"Thank you," she said, knowing that answering back to Dylan would be an unwise decision. He hadn't believed she'd be able to do it, she knew, and it felt so good to prove someone wrong again. It had been a while. But his cutting sarcasm could bring even the most violent patients to their knees, and it wasn't worth risking it and undoing her current success.

"I heard you did rather well in resus today, Dr Chao," Connie said as Lily crossed the department later on. "You're doing well all round, I'm impressed. Not many junior doctors, not many registrars either, for that matter, could carry out an emergency escharotomy with so little help."

"Thank you Mrs Beauchamp," Lily said, smiling.

Ethan overheard this exchange from where he was standing. He wished he could shake the memory of Connie having to take over when he'd almost made a critical mistake with an escharotomy a few months ago. Connie hadn't been having a dig at him. Had she? She didn't know he was listening, so maybe she was. Ethan mentally chastised himself for thinking like this, and wished the rational half of his brain would be a little more active. He wasn't supposed to be letting Lily's success and confidence get under his skin like this, and other people obviously didn't spend time thinking about whether they were on a par with their contemporaries. He knew he had to speak to Zoe, but he didn't know how to do it in a way that wouldn't make him sound like he was completely off his rocker.

Back in cubicles, Lily wasn't enjoying all of the success which Ethan seemed to think she deserved. She joined Rita in cubicle four, where a portly middle-aged man occupied the bed. She was just unwrapping her stethoscope from around her neck when he spoke, and his tone was ice cold.

"There's no need for that, love," he said curtly.

"Oh really?" Rita said, jumping in without missing a beat. "And how would you like Dr Chao to determine what exactly is wrong with you if she can't examine you?"

"I don't want your Dr Chao treating me at all," he replied. "I want a proper doctor -" And then he said a word which made Lily's skin crawl. She stepped back from the bed like she'd been electrocuted. She was stunned into silence, instantly transported back through horrendous memories. Rita blinked, equally shocked at the man's words and the way Lily was so uncharacteristically quiet.

"No-one in this hospital will accept that kind of abuse," she said, realising that tears were forming in Lily's eyes, although the junior doctor was already leaving the cubicle in embarrassment.

"Mrs Beauchamp?" Lily said, rubbing her eyes furiously so that it looked like her eyes were watering from dust, or tiredness. The Clinical Lead looked up from the notes she'd been reading, superbly masking her surprise that Lily appeared to have been... Crying? But Lily didn't get emotional over anything.

"What can I do for you, Dr Chao?" she said measuredly. Now was not the time to investigate.

"The gentleman in cubicle four would prefer a more senior doctor to see to him, if you wouldn't mind," Lily said, trying to maintain her image of confidence.

"Of course, that's not a problem Lily," Connie replied, although something was definitely not right here.

When Zoe returned to her office at the end of her shift, she stood on an envelope which had been carefully pushed under the door. The paper was barely crinkled, thank goodness, and it was addressed to her in immaculately neat handwriting. It stood out to her immediately: when she'd read Ethan's application form for the job at Holby, she'd been astounded that someone with such tidy penmanship had made it in the medical profession. She closed the door behind her, sat down at her desk and unfolded the paper in the envelope.

 **Next chapter will definitely contain the letter, which will take me ages to write because I can anticipate it being quite difficult to get right :/ Anyway, please leave me a review and let me know what you think of this chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I son't think this chapter needs much introduction, there's not too much I can say apart from some of this is taken from experience, so the parts that are, are only accurate to me. Please leave me a review, I don't usually write letters and things into my stories, it's certainly harder to write from a first person view!**

 _Dear Zoe,_

 _Firstly, I know that I've been a little off-form lately, well, a lot. I also know that my patients deserve an awful lot more than what they've been getting, and although it makes little difference now, I want to apologise profusely. It's not an excuse, and I don't wish to use it as one, but things haven't been right for me since my mother passed away, even though I know she would want to get on with my life and would hate to see me making such a mess of things._

 _I wish I could sort things out in my head without the need to get other people involved. Please don't think that I don't appreciate your offer of help, I promise that I do, but I'm sure you've got much better things to do than sort out whatever's happening to me at the moment._

 _And in truth, I'm not sure even I know what's happening. It's the hardest thing in the world to describe, and it makes me sound completely crazy. Sometimes it makes me wonder why I carry on trying to be a doctor, because while It keeps happening I know I'm doing a terrible job._

 _'It' is the thing that keeps me quiet when I want more than anything to tell someone that I'm struggling, because no matter how much I tell myself that I can deal with this alone, the rational half of my brain reminds me that the wiser choice would be to accept help. It's easier for me to make sense of it when I describe it as like having two having two halves to my brain. The rational half constantly reminds me that I'm acting completely_ irrationally _, that I really have nothing to worry about, because I'm a doctor and this is what I'm good at. It doesn't take a genius to work out that it's the other half of my mind which is having far too much say at the moment. I don't mean to have so many moments when words just fail me. I don't want it to happen at all, because I feel like everyone can see me failing when it happens. I know that people are quickly losing patience with me when I have these episodes of frozen fear, and I don't blame them in the slightest – like you, they've got better things to do than wait for me to spit out a sentence that should take a few seconds to finish._

 _More than anything right now, I want to move on from this. I want to do well, I want to succeed. In all honesty at this moment, success would be to blend in and muddle through like everyone else manages to. An ED is clearly not the best place for an anxious person, but I want to be here so badly. It made my mother proud, although the only thing I think of currently, when I think of this place, is the feeling of intense dread which grabs be by the collar when I feel like I'm maybe going to slip up and make a mistake._

 _I've already taken enough of your time, but please bear with me for a little longer while I attempt to describe exactly what It feels like. It's an untidy tangle of thoughts, none of which make me feel any better, because they remind me how ridiculous I must look at the present moment. I feel sick, but equally I'm rooted to the spot because my stomach is knotting up. My mouth is drier than I've ever known it and I can't swallow, which makes it even harder for me to speak. I try to say a few words but I stutter like a child. My cheeks turn hot and pink because I know I'm not making any sense, and I'm wasting people's time. I know that I wring my hands and this only makes me look even crazier._

 _I want things to change, Zoe, really I do. The most frightening thing is, I no longer know who I'd be if it was gone. I want it to go away and I want to be me, but I'm not sure who that is any more. And as much as it makes me feel sick to push this letter under your door, I hope that you understand now why I couldn't say it all out loud. You'll never quite know exactly how grateful I am to you for offering your support, a feeble 'thank you' doesn't even scratch the surface._

 _Ethan_

Zoe looked up from Ethan's neat script, stunned for a few seconds. She took a deep breath to compose herself, having been unaware of quite how much the registrar had been tearing himself up inside. It was shocking to read his writing, and hear those words in his voice. His honesty was startling, and she absolutely understood why he could never have told her this out loud. If he really was feeling this bad (the stripped-down honesty and slightly jumbled order of thoughts convinced her that he was) then there was no way in hell that he'd ever be able to be this honest with her, face to face.

A nagging voice at the back of her mind told her that this was a matter which she couldn't keep to herself. Connie _had_ to be made aware of this – if she hadn't already noticed for herself that something was wrong. But Zoe's compassion stopped her, just as she was about to get up and head for the Clinical Lead's office. The last thing Ethan needed at the present time was for his boss to stage an intervention, and that's exactly what would happen. Although at times Connie was spectacularly understanding, the recent pressure on the ED was certainly affecting her the most so far. She'd been snapping at everyone far more frequently, especially with the looming threat of an inspection from upstairs – everyone knew that she and Hanssen were not on the greatest of terms at the moment. Her brisk attitude of late would be so unhelpful at the moment, it would probably send Ethan's anxiety spiralling backwards. No, for now at least, Zoe had to keep this to herself.

She composed an email to Ethan, in response to her letter. Her initial aim had been to remain impartial and professional about it, but reading back over her words she realised she sounded so cold and clinical that she deleted it all and started again. Her emotions bled out through the words, and as she clicked 'send' she stopped to wipe away the tears which had begun trickling onto her cheeks, most of them a delayed reaction to Ethan's letter.

 _Ethan -_

 _I'm so sorry you feel like this. Of all people you don't deserve it, and I promise to help you in any way I can. I also want to offer my sincerest apologise that I didn't spot this sooner, or perhaps that I was so short-sighted to think that what I was seeing wasn't as significant as it clearly is. I realise it probably doesn't help you right now, but with_ and _without the anxiety, you are a spectacularly talented doctor, who I am proud to say is a member of my team. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Ethan._

 _When you feel ready, come to my office and we can have a proper conversation about this. As difficult as that may be, I'm sure you appreciate that it's what we need to do._

 _Take care,_

 _Zoe_


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter's fairly long, I hope it doesn't drag or anything. I just had a lot to fit into it, and once I started I just had to keep going, so I hope you enjoy it**

Ethan was at home by the time Zoe's email reached him. His phone buzzed, vibrating so violently that it moved almost an inch across the kitchen table. As he read, his shoulders sagged. It had been the right thing to do, to let Zoe in so she at least understood what was going on, but his stomach knotted uncomfortably even so, at the thought of actually talking about all of this in the morning. Because it wouldn't do to leave all of this 'up in the air', as it were. He knew that it would be good for him for talk about it, but this didn't stop his mind running wild all evening. What if Zoe was just humouring him? She might just be putting up a front, and be thinking that this was all just a joke. Surely she wasn't taking him seriously? He was a doctor, it was in the job description that you had to be a 'people person' – although Dylan had perhaps proven that this wasn't the case. You had to be good at talking to people. At the very least, you weren't supposed to be afraid at the prospect of public speaking.

He tossed and turned until the early hours of the morning, when he eventually fell into an uneasy sleep. When his alarm went off at seven o'clock, he felt as though he hadn't slept at all. Ethan ran a hand through his tousled hair as he remembered what this morning would bring. His heart was already beating too quickly, and he realised that he was chewing the inside of his bottom lip absent-mindedly. It stung when he ran his tongue along it. He showered, taking longer than he would have done usually, then dressed quickly in a shirt and trousers, while his hair was still damp. Pulling a jumper over his head, he headed down to the kitchen, although he already knew he wouldn't be eating any breakfast. The way his stomach was churning, that was probably a wise choice – Zoe would be far less understanding if he brought up the contents of his stomach over her office carpet.

Getting out of his car and walking into the ED, Ethan felt like everyone was turning to look at him, even though he knew this was impossible. No-one else knew anything about, well, anything, so if they were turning round, it really was just to be polite and say 'good morning,' like they always did. He jammed his hands in his pockets, knowing that there was a slight shake in them. He felt like everyone would be able to see it, but no-one could. They just thought it was a little unusual for Ethan to have his hands in his pockets: the reserved doctor was impeccably well-spoken, and his posture and stance generally matched. But no-one thought anything more of it, as the day's stream of patients began to build.

Ethan lingered outside the door of Zoe's office for a few moments before tentatively knocking. Her soft Liverpool accent called for him to come in.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon," she said gently, gesturing for him to sit down on the sofa. It certainly wouldn't put him at ease for them to be on either side of a desk. She stood up and went over to sit beside him, noticing that he was already holding his hands together awkwardly in his lap.

"I – um, I thought it would be best to get this over with. Rather than... Instead of letting myself think about it too hard."

"I'm glad you're here, nonetheless," Zoe said. "I've been worried about you – are you okay?" Ethan's face was suddenly very white, and she began to notice the light shadows under his eyes, and the way his hair didn't fall quite as neatly as usual. Ethan opened his mouth to speak, and sighed in frustration as no sound escaped. "Take your time, don't rush on my account, all right?" Ethan took a deep breath, and let it out slowly through his nose.

"I'm sorry. I'm okay, I just didn't have any breakfast, I was feeling – a little... uneasy this morning."

"About this?" Ethan nodded. "You don't need to apologise, and this _is_ something that we can try and sort for you."

"I – I'm just – It's ridiculous though, I'm thirty-two years of age, and this is all in my head!"

"Exactly. The fact that it's in your head doesn't mean it's not real. If anything it's more real, because we can't just give you a painkiller and mask it for a little while. You've been fighting through every single day, with your mindset stuck against you, and the fact that you've never once asked for time off shows just how strong you are, Ethan. For as long as it's making you feel grim, it's very real, and I want to help you. And the fact that you managed to write it all down tells me that you want this help, so I'm going to do everything I can to help you." She paused a moment, watching the registrar. His hands were knotted in his lap, and he looked down at them so as to avoid making eye contact with Zoe. He was sitting stiffly.

Ethan zoned out for a few seconds, then snapped back into reality with a jolt as he bit the inside of his bottom lip a little too hard. He winced, and instantly hoped Zoe hadn't noticed. If she had, she didn't say anything.

"Ethan?" she said gently. He looked up, making himself look into her eyes, but wondering whether he was now going to be making _too much_ eye contact instead of not enough. Which was worse? He didn't know. "Can you think of anything that triggers this? I mean, what makes it worse? From your letter I guess that you're feeling quite anxious fairly regularly – you look quite anxious now – but is there anything that you absolutely know will set it off?" Ethan thought, and was quiet for a few moments. Knowing that the silence would probably add to the pressure on him, Zoe spoke again. "Or just any situations that make it worse, we could start there if that's easier."

Ethan's heart was beating faster and faster, he could feel it crawling up his throat, and blood was pounding in his ears.

"Um, this?" He laughed weakly, then looked away quickly as he felt his cheeks turning pink. _For goodness' sake,_ he thought, _can't you get through a single conversation without letting this take over?_ "Knowing that I'll have to talk in front of people. I don't mean – no, I -" He closed his eyes in frustration and rubbed his fingers into his palms so he was almost clenching his fists, but not quite, and took another deep breath, looking into Zoe's eyes because he felt like it was the right thing to do, not because it came naturally to him. "I mean that I can treat a patient when it's just me and them. It's when there's another doctor in there too, or even one of the nurses. I feel like – You're going to laugh, this is ridiculous."

"I won't laugh, I promise," Zoe assured him.

Ethan looked away, focusing on the desk because he was trying to pretend that Zoe wasn't there. But his voice saying all these words felt so wrong, that this technique didn't help either. "I feel like at the moment I'm just pretending to be a doctor, and at any moment someone's going to call me out on a mistake and realise that I shouldn't even be here at all. What kind of doctor can't hold a conversation without looking like a complete idiot?"

"One who cares. You care that you're doing a good job, and you are, I've never seen anything to make me think otherwise. The fact that you care is what makes you Ethan Hardy, and what makes you the amazing doctor that we all know you can be. You care that other people see you being a good doctor though, and that's your downfall." Ethan nodded, everything she was saying was true.

He'd always been the boy labelled as a teacher's pet on the first day. In most classes he chose to sit at the front, using his poor eyesight as an excuse to escape the seating plan that would have placed him in the middle of the room. It was a fee-paying, all boys school, but that did nothing to improve the conduct of his peers. The middle of the classroom would have been educational suicide, akin to a minefield with all its distractions. Ethan's classmates all knew of his brother, and found the differences between the two highly amusing. While Cal was happy to skip class on occasion, confident in breezing through every test without difficulty, Ethan worked hard for his achievements, which did little for his popularity – another area which Cal had never struggled in. Ethan had never been this anxious as a teenager, he did have friends, but his friends were like him, and the four of them had largely preferred the company of the teachers to the other boys in their classes. His mother was proud to have worked hard enough to send her sons to that school, and Ethan was appreciative of the lengths she'd gone to: he appreciated his education every day. But it made it much harder now, to know that she'd spent so much on his education, and putting both of her sons through medical school as well, and even after all that, Ethan could barely put his ability into practice. He hated to imagine what she'd think if she could see him now, constantly comparing himself to a younger, more competent (and admittedly very pretty) doctor.

"I suppose the main thing we have to do," Zoe went on, "Is to figure out how we're going to help you stop comparing yourself to everyone else." _To Lily_ , Zoe corrected herself silently. Because however much Cal was putting pressure on his brother to be more outgoing, the major problem here was that Ethan was comparing himself professionally to Lily, which wasn't doing him any good. Yes, Lily was a competent doctor, but at present she wasn't showing any of the people-skills that Ethan so obviously possessed, but was having trouble finding. "You're an excellent clinician in your own right, you don't need to be worrying what people think about you. You need to have a little faith in yourself."

"Easier... easier said than done," Ethan said, frowning a little as he had to speak over a slight stammer. He sounded a little more relaxed as he ended the sentence. He was comfortable in Zoe's company, because he knew that she wasn't going to come out with any barbed comments, not like Cal, who took great annoyance from his brother's quietness. Ethan trusted Zoe, which is the only reason why he went along with her idea of having one of these meetings every week, to try and talk through things.

Her final words stayed with him for the rest of the evening though.

"However bad things get, Ethan, you're never going to be wasting my time. Don't ever think that you're taking up too much of my time by knocking on that door to have a conversation about this. Because that's how we're going to sort this out. We're going to find a way to tuck this anxiety into a box, and leave the box behind, because when you're not thinking about it, you're one of the best doctors in this department. Don't let anyone, or anything, make you think otherwise, okay?"

 **Hope you liked the chapter, please leave a review and let me know what you think :)**


	7. Chapter 7

Ethan arrived at the ED for the night shift, just as Connie was preparing to leave. As he passed her office, she called him in. He pulled his sleeves over his hands, wishing he didn't have such obvious nervous tics. Connie didn't seem to notice, luckily.

"Ethan, just the man I was looking for," she said warmly. She'd noticed him seeming a little distant lately, and she was hoping that this would bring him back up to speed with the team.

"What can I do for you, Mrs Beauchamp?" Ethan replied, feigning confidence.

"I'm putting you in charge of the shift this evening," she said. Ethan's heart dropped, and he was very still for a few seconds. "Is that all right?"

"Um – yes – I, er, of course, not a problem." There was very much a problem. The pre-night shift pep talk. Which everyone else could get through without skipping a beat. Ethan tried to drag his thoughts away from the images flashing through his mind. Of himself, stumbling over words in front of the team, and them either splitting their sides laughing, or pitying him something rotten, which would probably be worse. Ethan glanced behind him towards the door, wanting to escape. What would Connie do if he just turned around and walked out, and never came back? He couldn't do that, above all else he'd look really stupid.

"Ethan?" Connie repeated, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Oh – sorry, Mrs Beauchamp, I thought I heard something outside, it's nothing."

"Right. If you're going to be in charge tonight, you need to keep your eye on the ball, and not let it out of your sight. I need to know you're going to stay focused," she said, trying to make him see that this was a big responsibility. But he should already understand that, it wasn't as if he'd never done this before. She wasn't sure quite where his head was at, lately, he wasn't himself, that was certain.

"Sorry, momentary lapse of focus, but it won't happen again. Eyes on the ball," Ethan said, using her words to make sure she knew he was concentrating.

Standing in front of the team in reception, Ethan was beginning to wish that he had been brave enough to turn this down. It felt as though thousands of eyes were trained on him, willing him to trip up and make a mistake. It didn't help that it was November the fifth, so not only would they be busy all night, but patients were already crowding into the department, so he was under time pressure as well.

Zoe watched as the registrar opened his mouth to speak.

"Right, everyone, I think we all know what tonight is going to bring, but – b -" For a second, Ethan closed his eyes, and Zoe felt her cheeks warming empathetically. His eyes added to his pained expression. She watched his glance dart his brother, who was looking around the room impatiently, to Lily, whose expression all too clearly said "hurry up," and then to the door. She could see the thought processes move through his mind. He wanted to escape.

Ethan wanted to leave. Everyone could see him making a complete fool of himself. It was as if someone had switched off the tap which was supposed to allow a steady stream of words. His well of vocabulary had dried up, and he was left stumbling over nothing, his mouth open like a goldfish. His hands were behind his back, allowing him to clench them in anger directed at himself. His thoughts were clouded and jumbled, then, all of a sudden, one sentence came to the forefront of his mind. Crystally clear, Ethan spoke.

"I'm sorry, would you all just excuse me a moment," he said, before rushing from the scene.

There was a low hum of chatter, before Zoe moved to the front of the group and brought their collective attention to herself. Dylan looked at her quizzically, wondering why she was taking over so readily, but she shook her head, telling him she wasn't going to discuss it now.

"It's bonfire night, so a lot of the injuries we'll be seeing are familiar to you, and it will likely become very repetitive. As with any night shift, you need to make sure you're staying alert and awake, if you feel like your concentration is failing then let someone else take over and take a break. I don't want any mistakes tonight, okay? Has anyone got any questions?" she waited a few moments, but clearly everyone was focusing elsewhere, luckily on the patients rather than Ethan. "Right, here's to a successful night then everyone."

She wanted to catch up with Ethan, to find out what was going through his mind. She was concerned, she'd never seen him so wound up that he'd actually needed to excuse himself before. His expression was worrying too, he'd just looked so lost. But she was immediately distracted by the ring of the red trauma phone. She took quick notes from the ambulance control team and gathered a reliable team: Dylan, Charlie, Rita and Lily, before relaying the information to them as they prepared resus.

"We've got an adult male coming in, approximately thirty five years old. Predictably it's a firework related incident, so we're looking at full thickness burns to the hands, lower arms and face. As soon as he's here, I want Charlie and Rita with a burns chart, calculating fluids and administering as soon as they've been approved by myself or Dylan. Plastics have already been called, they're on standby -"

"It's November the fifth, surely they're on constant standby?" Dylan said quietly, darkly sarcastic. Zoe glared at him.

"Now? Really? You can be sarcastic in the morning, when this is all over," she said, serious but not angry with her friend. If she hadn't been leading the case, and so worried about Ethan, she probably would have smiled with him. "We're going to have our work cut out trying to save as much of the burned area as we can – and keeping his airway open for theatre, if he's been burned that badly around the face it's likely to have hit his neck as well."

"Right, okay," Dylan said, focused on the task at hand.

"Lily, you're here to observe this case, so I'd like you to remain a step back from the action, unless things take a turn for the worse and we need you to do a round of CPR." Lily looked a little put out at this news, but didn't audibly object.

In this configuration, the small team worked for an hour and a half to save the patient. Lily did have to take a turn with CPR, but even she was wise enough to know that this wasn't the kind of involvement she wanted to have in the case. The man's life was hanging in the balance, and Dylan was arguing with Zoe to call time on it all.

"I am not calling it yet, Dylan, he has a wife on her way here, and I don't want to end this until she's here, all right?" Dylan grudgingly agreed, but they were all relieved five minutes later, when a young woman with flaming red hair burst into resus accompanied by Louise, who had detected the tension in the room and had been avoiding the whole area.

Dylan didn't believe in miracles. His brain worked far too logically for that. But something changed when their patient's wife put her hand on her husband's shoulder. She leant down to drop a few kisses in his hair, and no-one caught what she was saying but she whispered something close to his ear. The woman stepped back, tears glistening under her eyes.

"Thank you," she said. "I know you've done all you can. I told him that if he -" She broke down, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. She blew her nose and carried on, as Lily prepared to start one last round of CPR. "I said that if he doesn't want to keep trying, he doesn't have to. Do you think he knows I'm here?"

"I'm sure he does," Charlie said comfortingly. They all stood for a moment, before suddenly the heart monitor beside the bed starting beeping in a faint but regular rhythm. Dylan stared, hardly believing what he was seeing.

When Zoe left resus, she was surprised to see Ethan working in cubicles as though nothing had happened previously. He looked completely calm, except for a slight awkwardness in his hands. There wasn't time to pull him aside, it would have to wait until the next shift.

Lily could see Ethan too. She wasn't impressed. How could Connie have trusted him to be in charge of the shift when he couldn't put a sentence together? She barely knew anything about the registrar – they rarely worked together, and when they did he paid so much attention to the patient that he barely acknowledged her existence. And when he did, he couldn't even string a full sentence together without stammering like a child. Why would Connie have put him in charge, surely she knew that he couldn't manage without the help of one of the consultants to speak for him?

But a collection of painful memories reminded her that it was spiteful for her to be thinking like that. If this was anything like... No, she refused to give it any thought at all, it was behind her now. But all the same, she hoped someone was giving him the time of day. She didn't trust herself to do it without putting her foot in it. Her people skills were hardly Charlie-standard.

Ethan needed help. But he couldn't get it while he was in a hospital, putting lives at risk by not being able to speak. As soon as she was back on shift, Lily would be in Connie's office putting this to bed, once and for all. There was no place for struggles like that in one of the busiest Emergency Departments in the country.


	8. Chapter 8

**Quite a short chapter tonight, sorry, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Thank you for the reviews so far, I still get really excited whenever a review appears in my email inbox :) Keep letting me know what you think x**

Zoe was gutted to arrive at the hospital in time to see Lily leaving the Clinical Lead's office that morning. She had wanted to get in there first, to explain the _right_ side of the story before Lily got there and filled Connie with a spiteful one-sided story. But still, hindsight was a wonderful thing, even if the extra twenty minutes in bed had clearly not been worth it on this occasion. Zoe walked swiftly to the office door as Connie stood up from her desk.

"I think you need to sit down again, this might take a while," she said. The Clinical Lead sighed, sitting back down in her black leather chair.

"If this is about Ethan, I think I've got a pretty good idea of what's going on. Lily's just been in here and filled me in on what's going on."

"No, you need to hear the other side of the story," Zoe said, struggling to stay calm with the injustice of it all.

"Zoe, I need my whole team to be on the same page. This department will not function at its best if there are members of the team not fitting the brief! And currently, it seems that Ethan cannot be trusted to be responsible over the night shift, so frankly along with other recent stumblings, I'm not sure there can be a place for him in this department!"

Zoe was taken aback. This was not the reaction she'd expected of Connie. She'd expected a detached and unemotional presence, yes, but to hear her say that she was considering dropping Ethan from the team altogether? She only hoped she had enough of a story herself to change Connie's mind and save Ethan's job.

"You've only heard Lily's side though, and I know for a fact that she has a very one-sided view of this whole affair."

"And I suppose you're about to argue that you know the entire back-story?" Connie countered, unwisely.

"Yes!" Zoe said, rather louder than she had intended. "If you had any idea how difficult he's finding... _everything_ at the moment, there's no way you'd still be thinking of throwing him out!" Connie looked stunned, and even Zoe was surprised by how harsh her tone had become. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so angry, it's just so unfair, and he doesn't deserve this right now."

"No, you're right," Connie admitted. "I was being unfair, I should have let you fight his cause from the start. I'm listening." She hated being wrong, but she'd lose all the respect of the department if she called Ethan in to consider his position and it turned out that she'd been unjust all along. She couldn't afford to lose the support of major players like Zoe (and if she lost Zoe she'd no doubt lose Dylan, who would make things ridiculously difficult if he was against her.) It was a somewhat selfish view to take, but in the short term, to save her own skin she needed to be diplomatic. And, _if_ she allowed herself to be emotional, she _did_ care if there was something going on in the lives of her team.

"Thank you," Zoe said. "I've met with him twice now, regarding the same issue, and it's not going away. I think it was at its worst on that night shift, and at its most public, because you asked him to lead, which involves a small amount of... public speaking," she went on carefully. She didn't want to be too accusing, even if in her mind it probably was Connie's fault that things had gotten so bad. "I think things will probably be easier for me to explain once you've read this." Zoe handed Connie the letter Ethan had written to her. She'd been hesitant about this, the letter had been written in the strictest confidence after all, but if it would make the Clinical Lead understand, and perhaps react with a little less volatility, then it had to be worth it.

Connie read the letter slowly, absorbing every word. Her eyes widened as she realised just how callous she must have sounded a few minutes ago. Ethan's emotion leaked out of every sentence; his conviction and lack of self-confidence were startling in equal measure. She knew her own emotions must be becoming far too visible on her face.

"He wants to be here so badly," Zoe said. Connie sighed.

"And I can see that, but surely you can appreciate that Lily does have a point. Can he really stay here, in such a confidence-dependent job, when he's struggling so much?"

"Lily doesn't understand, and I'm wondering whether you do either. He's trying ridiculously hard every single day, because he's so concerned that he might make a mistake. If you took the time to watch him trying to do things that we take for granted, you'd see how hard he's trying. He's fighting against his anxiety all the time, and I don't think it would help him in the least if you threw him out. His confidence is already so low, it would tip him over the edge completely. I'm not going to let you do that to him."

"Okay, but what do you suggest then? He's not a child, I can't exactly have someone keep tabs on him all the time. He wouldn't appreciate being singled out, and it would only add fuel to Lily's fire. She's convinced he shouldn't be here."

"And I'm convinced that he should be," Zoe said, raising one eyebrow. She would not be beaten down on this matter. Ethan couldn't fight his own cause, not at the moment, but that only made her more determined to fight this battle for him. "What's to say that we can't have someone with him, for at least some of the time if not all?" Connie looked thoughtful for a moment.

"He might not like the idea of it, but I've had a thought. I'll try and keep him out of resus -"

"You'll need to careful with that one," Zoe cut across her.

"I know I will. I was thinking maybe we could have a couple more people looking out for him, and then we'd be able to get him out of situations before they the better of him."

"Oh I don't know!" Zoe said exasperatedly, putting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. She brushed one hand through her hair, wishing this was simpler. Wishing she knew what to do.

"We'd have to ask him first, but I think we could ask Charlie and Rita, they wouldn't make a song and dance about it. If he has to be in resus, it'll be with either us or one of those two, and if we spot anything we can get him out of there before it escalates." Zoe was relieved, Connie was listening and she was dealing with the situation the best way she knew how. She admired that the Clinical Lead could almost switch off her emotions to solve a problem, and that she could take control of a situation with seemingly very little effort.

"Okay," she replied slowly. "I'll talk to him when I get chance later. I hope this works. If we can build his confidence a bit, it'll make his anxiety easier to fix."

"It won't be a quick-fix, Zoe, you know that," Connie said. Zoe nodded, sighing and running another hand through her hair.

Although it was at the back of her mind all day, Zoe was less on edge about it all after that. This was what Ethan needed. He needed someone to have his back and encourage him, not someone pushing him into uncomfortable situations. For now at least, there seemed to be a light at the end of the tunnel. This would all be so much easier if Ethan had his brother on his side, but as she saw Cal across the department, laughing and joking with Max and Noel, she knew that the differences between the two brothers would make it exceptionally difficult to get them both on the same page.


	9. Chapter 9

**I had such bad writer's block with this chapter, but when this idea came to me it just poured out onto the page, so I hope it reads okay! It's a bit more of Lily's backstory, some more explanation of why she is how she is in this story. Please leave a review and let me know what you think :)**

Lily sat down at her desk in the spare room, finally letting down the facade she kept up, all day, every day. She'd removed her make-up and carefully plaited her hair down her back. The house was quiet, and the silence was disconcerting. Lily didn't like silence, it reminded her far too much of times gone by. She looked up at a photograph of herself and pressed her lips together.

The Lily in the photo was eighteen years old, and she was mid-way through conquering her greatest demon. She was shaking hands with the head of science, at her college's annual awards' evening. Relief shone out of her eyes, and her smile said it all. Lily wished she could push this memory away, because it was tinged with sadness, as were most of the memories she held of her time in college. And remembering them only made her feel worse about how she was treating Ethan at the moment.

* * *

Eighteen year-old Lily Chao sat nervously in her seat in the college's auditorium. She bit her lip, but stopped herself almost immediately because she didn't want to get red lipstick all over her front teeth. She tapped the back of her hand anxiously, just like she'd learned, trying to release the tight ball of fear growing in her chest. No, she could do this, she'd come so far in the last six months, this was nothing. She looked up to the stage, and saw the head of science, Mr Crawford, come to the wooden podium.

"I always enjoy this evening," he began, "because there are so many students who deserve to be rewarded for their efforts. The pressures of exams never do seem to cease, and yet our young people achieve great things. It gives me great pleasure to give this award, because I know that this student has tried exceptionally hard, and I'm sure most of the staff here this evening would agree that she has overcome great adversity in this last year. So without further ado, this year's special award for science is awarded to Lily Chao, in year thirteen." There was the usual applause, but Lily tried to tune it out. She concentrated on just putting one foot in front of the other without tripping, because she knew there were a number of students in the audience who would dearly love to see her fall.

Taking the trophy from Mr Crawford, Lily smiled, inhaling deeply before saying quite calmly, "Thank you Sir." The applause was such that no-one else could hear their little exchange, which Lily was grateful for.

"You're very welcome Lily, you deserve it. We're all very proud of you. You'll go on to great things, I'm certain of it." She shook his hand, as was customary on occasions such as this, and smiled into the camera pointed her way, absolutely relieved that this had gone without a hitch.

Stepping down from the stage, Lily looked into the audience, scanning it for her parents. She immediately wished she hadn't, because the students at the front, around her empty seat, weren't applauding at all. Their faces were twisted into cruel smiles, and Lily wished she didn't have to return to her chair. Bravely, she attempted to ignore them, and didn't make eye contact as she sat down and put her trophy at her feet.

The music award was next. Lily couldn't help feeling a pang of intense jealousy when Amy Prince's name was called. She stood up from her seat directly behind Lily, poking the back of her head sharply as she did so, and swanned up to the stage with such confidence that Lily had to look away. Closing her eyes for a second, she tried to remind herself of everything her mother had ever said about the bullies in her year. Somehow _I'm worth twelve of you_ didn't quite cut it when Amy was looking Lily dead in the eyes, on purpose. Lily excused herself and fled for the bathroom, knowing that there was a panic attack rising from within her that she wouldn't be able to control if she'd stayed in the auditorium. Sitting down on the closed toilet, she closed her eyes again, resting her head on her knees, which she'd drawn up to her chest. Even though she knew this was obstructing oxygen to her lungs, she didn't care. She needed that extra barrier against the world. She concentrated hard on the cello chords she needed to play her favourite piece of music, the prelude to Bach's Cello Suite Number 1. Lily refused to let herself cry, not here. She already knew that the work she'd put in to pushing out a sentence tonight would have been totally undone. That tightness in her throat was back, and she knew she wouldn't be speaking again for a while. It wasn't fair, how could one person make her feel like this? How dare one person have the power to turn an entire year group against her? What had she done to deserve this? Lily let out a desperate sob, disappointed in herself for letting this happen again. She held her breath as she heard the door swung open. The click of high heels sounded against the tiled floor, and she wished with all she had that it wasn't the same pair of shoes she'd just watched walk across the stage.

"Game over Chao," Amy's voice said loudly. "Everyone's noticed you chickened out, we had bets on how long you'd last. To give you your due, you stayed long enough to get your award, half of them thought you'd be gone before the Economics one. I knew you'd stay, wouldn't pass up your time in the limelight, wouldn't give up on that chance to prove you're not so useless after all. Some doctor you'll be though, you can't even get a bloody sentence out, can you? Fat lot of use you'll be in A&E." Lily knew tears were spilling over her eyes. This was it, there were no more days in college until results day in the summer. She wanted Amy's final memory of her to be exactly how awful she'd made her feel for the last eighteen months. She slid the lock to the right, and let the door swing open. There would be mascara down her cheeks but she didn't care. With eyes like fire, she stared straight into Amy's cold blue eyes.

"Can't even speak now, can you? Pathetic. Whatever happened to me, I hope you're never my doctor. You'll probably never even make it through the first week of med school," she spat. Her last words were the final straw. "And everyone knew you wanted the music award. They're just glad you didn't win it, or you would've been asked to play your stupid cello on stage. That trophy's mine. You're just stuck with science, back in the labs with a stupid white coat, where you belong." And then she said that word, the one which twenty six year old Lily would one day shy away from in the one place she felt safe.

The door had barely swung shut before Lily turned swiftly on her heel and slammed her left fist into the mirror. The glass shattered around her hand and arm, and blood began to pour onto her grey dress. She cried out in pain and rushed to get her hand under a tap. Why was she so bloody inadequate? Why couldn't she just SPEAK?

* * *

Twenty six year old Lily traced the faint scars on her left hand, and wished she knew how to get the words out to tell Ethan that she didn't want to be so nasty. She'd built up such a strong wall over the years that she couldn't just break through it and act like she used to. She wanted nothing more than to help him past his own barriers, but how could she when she clearly hadn't demolished her own?


	10. Chapter 10

Zoe walked into the staffroom, looking for any free doctors. Hoping she wouldn't find Ethan, because hers and Connie's agreement to keep him out of resus still stood. Her heart sank a little when she saw the blond doctor drinking a glass of water, but rose again when she scanned the rest of the room and spotted Dylan and Rita, the latter of whom was fully aware of Ethan's current situation.

"Right," she began, smoothing the cuffs of her blouse. "I need two doctors in resus, and a nurse wouldn't go amiss either."

"And where are you swanning off to?" Dylan asked sarcastically, setting his mug of coffee on the table in front of him and folding up his newspaper. He wasn't really objecting, he would have gone anyway, but he got a kick out of Zoe's expression. That raised eyebrow and death glare could halt a herd of wildebeest. He half-smiled to show her he was only joking.

"Believe me, I'd much rather be heading into cubicles, than 'swanning off' upstairs for a meeting with Hanssen," Zoe said. "Ethan, would you mind going ahead a moment and getting the notes? I've got to sort a couple of things with these two, but I won't keep them long."

"Not at all," Ethan said quietly, heading out of the room quickly.

"What have we done now?" said Dylan, although Rita had already guessed what Zoe was about to say.

"I'll keep an eye on him," she said reassuringly to Zoe, while Dylan looked bemused. She then turned to him. "Ethan's struggling with anxiety, in a big way, so if you spot him struggling, we need to get him out of there before anything goes wrong, okay?"

"Um, yes, but what if we're in the middle of something critical and we can't afford to chuck him out?" Dylan said logically.

"Dylan, don't be difficult," Zoe said. "I'm sure you can cope by yourself in resus, it's not as if you've never done it before!" She mirrored his previous snippy tone exactly, and was satisfied that he didn't pursue the issue.

Ethan's thoughts were racing, but he wanted to prove that he was worth keeping in the department. Just once, he wanted to achieve something on his own merit and not let his anxiety get in the way. He forced the waves of fear down into his stomach, and as he read over the patient notes he worked it into a tight knot that he could at least attempt to ignore. Dixie and Iain wheeled in the patient as Dylan and Rita walked over to the bay Ethan stood by. The three of them listened intently, but as per Zoe's last instruction to him, Dylan let Ethan take the lead.

Lily stood outside resus and watched Ethan working for a few moments. He looked like every other doctor, calm in the face of crisis, unashamedly taking control and acting authoritatively, even towards Dylan. She glanced at the heart monitor next to the patient and wished she could do something about the single straight line. She watched his expression change, and she hoped he wasn't going to panic; that wouldn't help here at all, and would likely get him thrown out of resus, Dylan's patience surely wouldn't last forever. Lily wished there was a reason for her to stay, Ethan's determination alone was so admirable that she couldn't help forgetting all the grudges she held. She watched him push his clenched hands onto the patient's chest, his cheeks turning pink with the effort. His glasses slid slightly out of position and something inside her wanted to step into resus and straighten them. He was trying so hard. Connie suddenly called Lily into cubicles and she pulled her thoughts back to reality. Ethan would never think anything of her, because she couldn't bring herself to say a civil word to him. She felt guilty for justifying this with the thought that she'd spent so long building up a ten foot wall around herself (complete with moat, drawbridge and some seriously scary sea creatures) that she barely knew how to let people in any more.

Ethan had done so well at holding his anxiety in one place, but as the patient flatlined he felt it rising. His heart sped up and whilst checking the patient's non-existent pulse with one hand, he rubbed at the base of his neck with the other. His breaths were becoming more frequent and he knew that when he tried to speak he'd stumble over the words. This couldn't be happening now, he was trying to prove himself, trying to show Zoe that he was trying to take control.

Rita had seen Ethan's hand shake as he reached out to check the patient's pulse. He was about to start the next cycle of compressions, but she needed to stop him. She reached a hand out and put it on top of his, to get his attention gently.

"Ethan, stop. Let Dylan take over, it's his turn." As the registrar stepped aside, leaving Dylan room to start trying to resuscitate their patient, she took his arm and looked into his eyes. "Okay?" He nodded, pressing his lips together. Rita raised her eyebrows at him, silently questioning his judgement. Ethan sighed, and looked at the ground. "Zoe's office is open, I think you should go," she whispered.

Ethan was furious with himself.

Zoe crossed the department after her meeting, and Dylan caught her arm as she passed him. He had that glazed look in his eyes of having just lost a patient, but he looked more shaken than that.

"Ethan's in your office, I think," he said quietly, trying to make sure no-one else heard him. Zoe's shoulders dropped a little.

"Is he okay?"

"I don't know, I imagine so, but things didn't end so well in resus." As he said this, Zoe ran a hand down her face, feeling strongly that she'd let Ethan down. "No, it's not your fault, I promise he was doing really well, I think he was. I haven't seen anything to compare 'good' and 'bad' days with, but things started going wrong, there was a shake in his hands that came on very suddenly, and Rita very quietly told him your office was open."

"Right. Thanks Dylan, I'd better go and check on him," Zoe said, already looking past Dylan to her office.

"Zoe?" Dylan said. "Do you not think there will come a point when you can't deal with this by yourself?"

"I don't want to think about that," she said simply.


	11. Chapter 11

Zoe felt nervous as she pushed open the door to her office, which was weird, she reminded herself, because this was _her_ office, after all. Still, not knowing what she was going to find certainly set her edge as she walked in.

Ethan's eyes were red, like he'd been crying, but Zoe watched him sniff and look to the ceiling for a few seconds: he was trying to push his emotions down, repress his reaction to what had just happened.

"It doesn't work," she said softly, joining him on the sofa. "The looking at the ceiling to stop yourself crying. I mean, it does for a little while, but it doesn't make the feeling go away." Ethan looked down at his lap, and tears tumbled down his cheeks.

Ethan was painfully embarrassed, half of the pinkness in his cheeks was from a blush spreading upwards from his neck, not from the uncontrollable crying. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out this nightmare of humiliation. Zoe had been right; looking up to the ceiling _had_ stopped the tears at least, but there had still been a tight lump in his throat threatening to erupt into sobs. He felt so useless. Doctors lost patients all the time, it was a part of the job. If he couldn't accept that, he might as well leave now. And if he couldn't hold it together after a difficult case, why was he even bothering to stay in the first place?

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I don't know... I didn't want... I'm sorry Zoe." He sounded so pathetic, it was a wonder Zoe wasn't already planning his route out of the department.

"You don't need to apologise, Ethan. I don't need an explanation, I just want to help you."

"But how can you, when I don't even know what's happening? What kind of a doctor am I if I fall to bits after losing a patient?"

"Your ability as a doctor is not in any way infringed by this, Ethan. You're still an outstanding medical professional, please never forget that," Zoe said, trying to work out what to say next as she spoke. "I'm going to make you a cup of tea, then I need to look something up, okay?"

A few minutes later, Zoe left the office and scanned the department. She spotted Dylan fairly quickly and rushed over to him.

"Is he all right?" Dylan asked, sounding concerned. And he was, as much as he pretended to be completely heartless for most of the time, to a certain degree it did matter to him, whether there was a serious problem with Ethan. As little as he wanted to admit it, if there was anything he could do to help, he'd do it. He'd just rather it was kept quiet, which he could rely on Zoe to manage. Having been in the ED for a while now, he had a reputation to uphold. The reputation of resident grumpy git, with a liberal sprinkling of sarcasm, but it was a reputation all the same.

"I haven't decided yet," Zoe replied quickly. "Look, last week you mentioned you'd read something on panic attacks. Do you still have the article?"

"Do you think he's having panic attacks?" Dylan asked. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"No, I think he's got tonsillitis but might like a bit of light reading." Zoe's sarcasm was cutting, almost on a par with Dylan's. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, but I really don't have any other leads."

Dylan was worried; surely there was no way Connie would keep the registrar in the department if he _was_ having panic attacks. But Zoe would know this as well, so - "Zoe, there's only so long you can keep this a secret." He looked into her eyes deploringly, but his best friend showed no sign of giving up.

"Not this again. I know, Dylan. But I can't just – he doesn't need other people getting involved at the moment. I get that he needs help, I do."

"Okay, you've made your point," Dylan said. "Promise me that you're not going to work yourself into oblivion with this?"

Zoe rolled her eyes. "You sound like my mother. I was fourteen when I first told her I wanted to do medicine, and her reaction was something along those lines. I'm not fourteen any more, I can make my own decisions." She paused, as Dylan kept looking at her. "Fine. Promise."

"My office," Dylan relented at last. "In the magazine boxes, second shelf up, probably third box along. You'll have to check the dates but I think there's a mention on the cover. Turn the lights off before you go, and don't steal my chocolate."

"I wasn't planning to, but since you offered so kindly," she smiled. "Thank you, Dylan, you're a star."

Zoe found the magazine easily: Dylan's description had been madly accurate. She flicked through the pages, skimming them for the article she was looking for. At last, she found it. She sat at Dylan's desk to read it, gently searching the second drawer on the left for a packet of chocolate buttons. She'd replace them later.

Returning to her own office (having switched off the lights in Dylan's, as instructed) Zoe hoped that she was heading down the right path. It would be a crushing realisation for Ethan, she already knew, but hopefully it would help him in the long run.

"Ethan?" she said carefully, "I've done a bit of reading, and I've had an idea. No, that's the wrong word. It's not an idea, but I think I know what's happening to you. It might sound a bit shocking to you, but, have you ever thought you might be having panic attacks?" As she'd expected, Ethan almost visibly recoiled.

"I – um – I don't think – I'm not that bad. I'm not, I – am I?"

"People have all kinds of preconceptions about panic attacks, Ethan. It doesn't necessarily mean a complete loss of control, like you're probably imagine. If that was all a panic attack was, then no, you're probably not having them. But they can be much milder than that. I've seen you struggle, Ethan, and I think that might just be it." She chose not to verbally list the signs she'd recognised, it would only make Ethan feel more uncomfortable. But he froze, completely and utterly, there was an unmistakeable fear in his every move, and his speech all but shut down.

"Well, now what?" he said quietly.

"We can look at ways of stopping them happening to start with, and trying to tackle them once they get going. But I hope you can decide at some point to look for some help from somewhere other than me."

"Hmmm."

Ethan wasn't sure. Of course he knew that he couldn't expect Zoe to take all of his problems off his shoulders, that wasn't fair on her. But the idea of telling someone else all of his problems made his heart pound faster. He couldn't just write them a letter to spell it all out. He'd have to say it all out loud, and that was far, far worse than having to write it down. He would sound mad, and he'd no doubt be signed off work. As much as the ED was a source of anxiety for him, there were lists, procedures and routines, and these made him tick. They kept him going when his thoughts were running riot and out of control. Knowing that there _was_ a proper way of doing things, even if he clearly couldn't manage it, was a source of comfort when things all went wrong.

 **It's been a really tough couple of weeks for me, so to know what you think of these last two chapters would be great :) I struggled to write them, so I'm sorry if they're not quite up to scratch, but I hope they were okay to read x**


	12. Chapter 12

**Mammoth chapter tonight, sorry (or maybe not, if you like long chapters!) Just a warning, there are mentions of domestic abuse (involving a patient, before anyone worries about the characters.)**

 **Hope you like the chapter, please leave a review to let me know what you think :)**

Ethan tried to put on a brave face as he headed into work a couple of days later. Tried. He felt on-edge, fragile as a tower of cards, knowing that the slightest thing could knock him off balance completely and make this day just as bad as every other. As he passed Zoe, she caught his eye, raised her eyebrows and gestured with one hand, to mean "Is this a good day?" He nodded ever so slightly – there was no need to _assume_ that things wouldn't be okay today, after all. And although Zoe's patience with him seemed like a bottomless pit, Ethan didn't want to push his luck. He headed for the staffroom: there were another fifteen minutes before his shift technically started, and he didn't know where else to be.

He'd rather have arrived exactly on time, because being early meant spending more time just thinking, and this was his downfall. It had always been the way – Cal would barrel into things and think later, Ethan would consider things carefully, usually too carefully, leading himself into a state of nervous panic. But as it stood, he had factored in too much time for traffic (being late was almost worse than being early) so he made a cup of tea for himself and tried to calm his racing thoughts. He picked up the newspaper which had been lying on the coffee table in front of him and flicked through it listlessly. Surely other people didn't struggle this much to fill ten minutes of downtime. The door swung open and Dylan came in, as Ethan turned over to the puzzle page, revealing a crossword, all but filled in with the consultant's neatly printed capitals. The registrar put the paper down quickly, Dylan probably wanted to read it and wouldn't hesitate to ask for it.

"Oh, you're all right, I don't need that at the moment. Resus calls, oh the joys," Dylan said, with about as much enthusiasm as a turkey on Christmas Eve. He'd noticed Ethan almost drop the newspaper, a flash of fear in his eyes. He almost turned to leave, but that small patch of him which reluctantly dealt with emotions dragged him back into a conversation. "Wait, Ethan, are you okay?"

"Absolutely fine, not a problem," Ethan babbled. _Nice job,_ he thought. _There was nothing calm about that._ Dylan knew that Ethan wouldn't talk any more about it, but he promised himself he'd mention it to Zoe the next time he saw her. She was doing an excellent job of keeping his head above water. Although at present he seemed to be losing grip and sliding below the surface.

Ethan was alone in the room when he felt his heart speed up uncomfortably. He frowned, scrunching his hands into fists around the fabric of his scrub trousers. Tense for a few seconds, he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths through his nose. He tried to recall some articles he'd been reading lately. _Deep breathing can aid the switch from the sympathetic nervous system to the parasympathetic nervous system,_ he mentally recited. It wasn't working. _Pull your mind back to the present._ What was it, that exercise the journal suggested? Five things he could see in the room: Dylan's newspaper, now slightly crumpled; a stack of clean plates by the sink; Lily's notes, written immaculately without a single crossing out; Rita's cardboard coffee cup, abandoned on the table; and his own vibrant blue scrubs. Four things he could feel: his back on the chair; his feet on the floor; his watch strap around his wrist; and a slight draught coming in around the door. Three things he could hear: the sound of approaching footsteps; a bed being pushed past the door; the ringing of the red phone. Two things he could smell: the lingering scent of burnt toast and... and... very faintly, he could barely notice it these days, the very specific hospital detergent smell. One positive thought about himself. _That I've just managed to remember this whole exercise off the top of my head and it wasn't overly difficult, and I'm almost sort of feeling better. But that's not one thing anymore._

Cal burst into the staffroom, shattering Ethan's illusion of calm.

"Morning Nibbles, looking nervous as per. You'd never know you liked your job you know, from your face right now I'd say you'd been dragged in!" Tensing again, Ethan tried not to rise to Cal's bait, but the shattering of his calmness had brought on a sudden, rare burst of confidence.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" he snapped. Cal looked taken aback.

"All right, I was only messing," he muttered, but Ethan wasn't finished. He was seeing red, and being such a rare occurrence, all of the words which had become trapped within him of late were pouring out. Sharp, angry, pointed words, but he didn't care.

"That's all you ever do! You breeze in here like it's the easiest thing in the world to do, you manage to have a laugh with everyone but still know everything and stay on top of it all. You spend all day _just messing_ but you're still twice the doctor I'll ever be and I'm sick of it! And you know what's the worst thing about all of this? You _still_ have no respect for me Caleb, you're my brother and you're blind to the fact that this is probably the most I've said in a month!"

Cal wasn't sure quite what to say. He'd argued with Ethan before, for most of their childhood on and off, in fact, but this was almost frightening. Every time they'd warred with words, it had been pointed at the opposition. But every single barbed comment Ethan had made was directed straight back at himself. And now, as he folded back into the sofa in furious and humiliated tears, Cal had no idea what to do.

Outside, Dylan was heading back to the staffroom (to collect the newspaper, trying to look busy with no props was rather difficult, it seemed) but Zoe steered him out of the way as he reached for the door handle.

"Hey, I needed to go in there, get off!" he protested.

"No, you really don't. Did you not just hear the explosion between those two? The rest of the department did, and we're leaving them a wide berth for a bit."

"If Ethan and Cal are tearing chunks out of each other, don't they need some kind of mediation? Or at least someone to scoop Ethan up of the floor when Cal's hit him a few times?" he joked, but Zoe hit him (almost gently) on the shoulder.

"It was Ethan who snapped," she said quietly, her face a grave mask. "Give the sarcasm a rest for a minute, Dylan. They've barely spoken lately and I think Ethan's done with bottling things up. They need to hash this out, just give them the space to do it." She paused, letting a wicked grin creep onto her face before whispering "I think it might be Cal that needs scooping up when this is over, Ethan sounded vicious last I heard of that conversation." Dylan rolled his eyes in response. He just couldn't win.

Back in the staffroom, Cal sat tentatively next to his brother. He was no good with other people's emotions, not really, but he couldn't deny that what Ethan had said was probably true. He licked his bottom lip, working out what to say. It wasn't often that Caleb Knight was at a loss for words.

"Look, Eth, I'm sorry. I've been a really, really shit brother lately. Well, not lately, just in general, always, but I'm sorry. First things first though, I'm not twice the doctor you'll ever be, don't even think that. You spend hours studying where I do nothing. You _know_ all of it, and you wouldn't believe the number of times I have to dash out cubicles to check I'm doing the right thing. But this is what you were made for, Ethan, collecting and recalling complicated information. It's why you always won at Trivial Pursuit every Christmas," he added lightly, trying to coax a smile out of his little brother. Cal put a gentle hand on Ethan's shoulders, knowing that the next part of the conversation would be harder.

"I'm sorry for not noticing you've been so quiet. I – Can you – Do you know why?" he asked, rephrasing several times to try and put it more gently.

Ethan, eyes still red, replied in barely more than a whisper. "I don't know, it just – happened, after Mum -" He broke off suddenly, and Cal tightened his hold on Ethan's shoulders in a gesture of comfort and solidarity. "It happens, more and more now, although I don't want it to. I just freeze, or stammer like an idiot and then dry up of words altogether."

"Is this why you haven't been in resus very much?" Cal said, mirroring Ethan's hushed tone because he could feel the shake in his shoulders.

"Yes. I told Zoe first, but she had to tell Mrs Beauchamp otherwise my job was on the line."

Cal physically ached with the knowledge that Ethan had turned to Zoe for help before his own brother.

"Um," he began awkwardly. "What can I do to help?"

"What?" Ethan almost didn't believe what he'd heard.

"You heard me," Cal said gently. "How can I help when things are bad?"

"I wish I had an answer for you," Ethan said. "I barely notice, when I'm panicking really badly."

"I'll find out from someone, and I promise not be an idiot about it. I'm sorry for not being there for you Eth, really I am. Are you okay... to work now?"

"Yes, although I imagine Mrs Beauchamp will have something to say about me using the staffroom to shout at you, so I'd rather stay here. And yes, I know that's not an option. Let's go, get it over with."

But Connie didn't have anything to say to either of the two brothers. Ethan had been right in thinking that she wouldn't have been happy to hear their conflict, but Zoe had stopped her intervening in much the same way as she had Dylan. Although she'd complained that it was highly unprofessional (to which Zoe had replied, "Yes, I know it is, but it's the first time they've spoken to each other in weeks. And besides, this is Ethan we're talking about, don't you think he knows this isn't the 'proper' way to behave? How often does he snap?") she couldn't help but concede that letting the brothers argue every once in a while was probably good for them.

Ethan started his shift with renewed confidence, feeling all the better for knowing his brother was looking out for him. Even if he didn't _quite_ trust him not go overboard and try to wrap him in cotton wool.

Zoe was extremely surprised when Ethan tapped her shoulder and told her he'd take the next case into resus.

"Are you sure?" she said.

"Yes, completely."

"Well I won't argue with your confidence, best of luck Ethan," she said, adding in her head that she wasn't going to argue because she wasn't sure when his next feel-good day would be. She kept her fingers crossed for him as a teenage girl was wheeled into resus. Just one good case, where nothing went wrong, might be enough to get him on a roll of feeling good about himself. And God, he needed a bit of self-belief right about now.

The girl on the bed before him was seventeen years old, and her father quickly told the team that she'd fallen down the stairs, before Iain removed him from the room to let the doctors get to work. The second doctor in the bay was Dylan, who noticed an unusual glint of confidence in Ethan's eyes so let him take control. As much as Ethan would be in charge of this case, Dylan couldn't help noticing that something about the girl's injuries didn't add up.

Ethan started basic checks on his patient, and also began to notice some discrepancies with the story that she'd fallen down the stairs. He ordered an X-ray of her wrist and ribs, but knew he'd need another doctor in the room for what he needed to do next.

"Okay Billie, I need to examine your abdomen, would you prefer to have a female doctor in the room for that?" he asked politely. Billie looked terrified still (which seemed unusual, Dylan thought, considering the painkillers she was on. Surely she would have relaxed a little by this point?) She nodded, almost unnoticeably. "Dr Keogh, would you mind sending in a female doctor please?"

"Not at all," Dylan said. He was going to leave, then he realised that if he didn't say something, maybe Ethan wouldn't be brave enough to, and he couldn't let this girl slip through the net. "Billie, anything you say to our doctors is strictly confidential. If there's anything that you think Dr Hardy should know, please tell him. It will make things much easier if you're completely honest with us." He made direct eye contact with her as he said this, and there was a flicker of something in her worried expression.

Ethan was silent for a few moments after Dylan left resus, reading through Billie's previous notes and checking the X-rays.

"Billie," he said quietly. "Looking at these X-rays, I don't think the breaks in your ribs are consistent with falling down the stairs."

Billie looked down to her lap. Ethan recognised this behaviour as what he'd do when he didn't want to answer a question, or if he was too anxious to find the words.

"I don't often make promises to patients, Billy, because as a doctor there are few promises I can make. But I can absolutely promise that while you're in this hospital, nothing – nobody," he corrected himself, "nobody can hurt you." Billie looked up for a moment, and her lips parted as if she was going to speak. Then she looked past Ethan, to where her father was barging back into resus (despite Lily's best efforts to keep him out) and her expression returned to completely neutral, all her emotion moved back to her eyes. Her eyes, somewhere between blue and green, almost seemed to scream.

"Sir, you cannot be in this room while we are working on your daughter. You need to return to the relatives' room, now please," Lily said authoritatively.

"Dad, I'm fine, you don't need to worry about me. I only fell down the stairs, there's nothing wrong with me really." Even Lily couldn't deny that there was a definite shake in Billy's voice.

"Mr Graham, you need to get out of here NOW." She was angry, there was something going on and they needed to get to the bottom of it, and soon. At that moment, Dylan came sweeping past the department and pulled Billie's father back to the relatives' room.

With Lily in the room, Ethan could examine Billie's abdomen. And this definitely wasn't consistent with falling down the stairs. There were deep bruises, which couldn't have happened in a single accident an hour ago.

"I know what you're going to say," Billie whispered. "And I don't know what to do. It happens all the time, he's got no patience with me and he snaps like that -" she snapped her fingers quickly.

Ethan looked to Lily. "I'll stay here, could you bring Mrs Beauchamp please. And make sure that Mr Graham isn't allowed anywhere near here." Lily nodded in response.

Later in the shift, Lily waited at reception for Ethan to come out of cubicles.

"Do you think you could take ten minutes, Ethan? I'm about to take a break and I wondered if I could just have a quick word with you?"

"Um, yes, okay," he replied, surprised.

"That was really good work back there," she said as she sat down with two cups of tea.

"Oh – I – that was nothing. I just -"

"No, it wasn't nothing. You did a really good job of gaining that girl's trust, and the outcome for her was exactly what she needed. She's safe now. I could never have done that, you're – you're um, good with people." She was trying to compliment him, but it was so hard, when she'd only been given harsh words and insults for so long.

"Thank you," Ethan said, wishing he had the confidence to make conversation. Inside he was flying. Maybe he _had_ done a good job, and it was so unlike Lily to say so that maybe she really was telling the truth.


	13. Chapter 13

"You're early, Dr Knight," Connie said, greeting Cal as he passed her office the next day. "Is this the first time ever?"

"Probably," he agreed. "I'm looking for Zoe, have you seen her?"

"Staff room. Have you made up with Ethan yet? I don't expect another demonstration like that in my department, thank you."

Cal looked down, embarrassed. "I have, yes," he said ruefully. "I – er – don't think it will happen again, sorry."

"Make sure it doesn't. Have a good shift, Cal."

Cal was making a concerted effort to get on Zoe's good side. He made her a cup of coffee before coming straight out with it.

"What can I do to help him, Zoe?"

"I'll assume that by 'him' you mean Ethan," she replied. "And I'll take from the fact that you're even asking, that your fight yesterday has been resolved."

"Excellent deduction," Cal said in a sarcastic voice. "I just want to help him. I'm his brother, and I didn't even notice that he was all but shutting down every time he got stressed. What kind of a brother am I, Zoe?"

"The kind who had other things on his mind. Don't worry Cal, you know now, so focus on that, and what you can do to make things easier for him."

"Right. But what can I do? It sounds heartless, and I don't mean it to at all, but this is all in his head, so can I practically do anything for him?" Cal knew his words could be easily misconstrued, and he hoped Zoe would see what he meant. Luckily, it appeared that she did understand.

"You're right though, this is absolutely in his head, but that makes it so much worse. It's not like a broken leg which we can set straight and leave to heal. He carries this... this _fear_ with him everywhere he goes, and somehow he fights through every day. Sometimes as if nothing is wrong, but other times his thoughts drag him down so far that he can't pull himself back from the brink. And that's what we have to try and do, from the outside."

"It would be so much easier if I could get inside his head and remind him that he's good at this," Cal sighed. He knew it made no sense to say that, obviously it was just the stuff of sci-fi films, but he was right. It would make Ethan's life so much easier, if in the tight grip of a panic he could force himself to remember that he was a gifted doctor, he had lots of friends in the ED and he was a good person. He just needed the ability to shout down the chorus of negative thoughts. Easier said than done.

"Okay," Zoe said, racking her brains for everything they'd done for Ethan recently. "At first you'll want to follow the lead of whoever's around. Rita, Charlie and Dylan have known about this for a little while now, and they're good at spotting when... I've described it in the past as 'when the panic comes down.' It takes some looking to spot it, because if you want to get him out of a situation before it gets too bad, you need to look for the very subtle things. Cal, are you okay?" The younger doctor had his head in his hands, and he sat tensely on his seat.

"I'm fine. It's just -" He couldn't say it out loud. Even Dylan, with all of his harsh exterior, knew before him. He changed tack, because his next worry was just as valid. "I just hate talking about Ethan like he's a case. He's not a patient, and I don't want to observe him like one!"

"Cal, harsh as this might sound, if we don't try and help your brother, he might become a patient. Okay? So please bear with me, I know this is uncomfortable. Do you think any of us

like having to work like this?" Cal shook his head, muttering an apology. She described what she had seen of Ethan when he was panicking. He often bit his lip, sometimes drawing blood but not seeming to notice. He'd wring his hands tightly, but sometimes it was behind his back so you had to watch carefully, and his eye-contact with anyone except the patient would stop abruptly, although sometimes there would be a sudden moment of clarity. "It's almost frightening," she recalled easily, "because I've watched him all but shut down and suddenly he'll be back in the room and excuse himself as though nothing is wrong."

Cal gasped out loud, realising that he'd heard this before. "He did that a few times when we were growing up. Obviously we were never in the same classes but his friends mentioned it occasionally. It was 'round exams usually, and he'd apparently go really quiet in class then all of a sudden ask to be excused."

"He's never mentioned anything about school before, not really," Zoe said.

"He wouldn't," Cal said quietly. "He didn't have an easy time of it. His own self-criticism usually, but -"

The door of the staff room swung open and Cal stopped talking at once. He sincerely hoped that Ethan didn't have a clue what had been said, as his brother walked through the door, smiling brightly.

"Morning Ethan," Zoe said nonchalantly. She knew that Ethan would feel instantly uncomfortable to know he was being talked about. "That patient, Dr Knight, we'll discuss them more later. But just let others take the lead for now. Only step in if you have to."

"Understood Dr Hanna. Thanks for the help," Cal replied as Zoe (who knew there was so much more she needed to say) left the room, grateful that she could think on her feet at this time in the morning, significantly more so than himself. "You look a bit better today," he added lightly to Ethan, who shrugged in response.

"I suppose so," he replied. "Here's to a good day?" He lifted his cardboard cup, half full of his usual tea with milk and a spoon and a half of sugar, as if he was raising a toast.

"I'll drink to that," Cal said, tapping the edge of his coffee mug on Ethan's cup.

 **So Ethan has been revealed as an unreliable narrator of sorts, having kept some secrets about his struggles at school, so keep that in mind! Cal will definitely continue to feature in this story – I struggled to write him at first but it's getting easier, so expect to see more of him in chapters to come :) There will probably be more chapters this weekend, to make up for my lack of writing recently (history coursework is dragging on but I'm nearly finished and of course it's nearly Christmas so I should have more time to write!)**

 **Please leave me a review and let me know what you think xx**


	14. Chapter 14

**As you can tell, history coursework definitely got in the way of more chapters last weekend! But despite looming mock exams I'll be writing a lot more over Christmas. Without further ado, a slightly festive chapter. Enjoy!**

The roads were a nightmare. It was mid-December and Christmas spirit had definitely fallen over Holby. A sprinkling of snow the week before had frozen solid, then half melted again, leaving the streets coated in a layer of slush which concealed whole swathes of still-solid ice. As Ethan walked into work (the number of car accidents he'd seen recently having put him off the idea altogether) it began to snow again. Concentrating on not slipping and making a fool of himself, Ethan tried to allow himself to love the snow as much as he did when he was simply watching it through a window. It was about quarter past eight, and due to the time of year it was almost still dark, so the snow swirled in delicate flurries under the beams of the street lights. Christmas lights flickered on inside the houses he passed, twinkling behind curtains as parents tried to encourage children to get ready for school with careful bribes from an advent calendar.

Lily was in an uncharacteristic rush. She had bargained on the roads being clearer this morning, so the fresh snowfall was a disappointment. Not that she didn't like snow, of course, but not being able to ride her moped to work meant she was running late as well as running down the road towards the hospital. The running was not a good decision, she realised, stopping herself as she came to the shopping precinct so she didn't skid into any other pedestrians. She'd never live that one down.

She loved snow, but there were always the bitter-sweet memories of college to contend with, as there were with most things. After the Awards' Evening incident which had left her with a carefully bandaged left hand, heavy snow had fallen over her town. Holding her left arm awkwardly, eighteen year old Lily had walked across the college quadrangle slightly off-balance. She often tried to arrive early, to avoid the groups who made it their missions to ruin her day. But unfortunately, walking more slowly in the snow meant she arrived when the quad was already full of students, nearly all of whom turned to stare. There were a few seconds between them seeing her arm lifted up across her chest, and the gathering of snowballs. Lily knew there was no point in running: she'd only lose her balance and fall face first in the snow. Refusing to give them the satisfaction of eye-contact, she stared straight at the doors ahead of her and walked in a straight line as the snowballs and cruel words began to rain down and pelt at her back.

Once she reached her locker, Lily pulled off her bag and coat with tears stinging her eyes. Her books were all soaked through and her hair hung limply over her shoulders, barely recognisable from the neat bun it had been styled in when she left the house. She didn't know what to do any more. The click of an office door opening brought her to her senses. Putting her books back in her bag, she felt a lump rising in her throat which meant she wouldn't be able to speak. She ploughed on regardless, making her way towards the office door. _Mr J. Crawford, Head of Sciences,_ the sign read. She knocked at the door and prayed he'd just gone into his office, not just left.

"Lily, come in," he said, turning round in his chair. "What can I do for you this morning?" But her face must have said it all. The panic had 'come down', as he'd said a number of times before, and she wouldn't be speaking today at all. "Sit down," he said, gesturing to an empty chair. He offered her a pen and a pad of lined paper, and for the first time she was brave enough to truthfully recount the events of the morning. His eyes widened on reading it: she'd never revealed the bullying to him before, only the anxiety and fear.

Things had begun to get better after that, but Lily had developed a harsh facade which had never gone away. Back in the present day, there was a tinge of embarrassment under Lily's skin as she almost fell in the car park of the hospital. Recovering herself immediately and looking around to check no-one had seen, she held her head high and walked calmly into the E.D.

Ethan reached the car park a few minutes later, his mind elsewhere for once, which meant he wasn't feeling anxious. That is, until a sudden car horn in the next street made him jump, and he fell down hard onto the pavement. Pain shot through his right leg and he gritted his teeth, eyes watering with the searing pain. He looked around, desperate that no-one had seen him fall. Luckily it seemed the car park was empty. He pushed himself up on his hands and tested his leg gingerly. It hurt like hell to put weight down on his leg but he had to carry on with the day. Cal was off work, so the department was short of a registrar – he couldn't go home, and more to the point Connie would never let him go home. Zoe wasn't in work until early afternoon either, so he couldn't even talk to her about it. Eyes still watering (he decided he would tell people it was because of the snow) and trying hard not to limp, Ethan headed into the E.D.

"Morning Ethan," Rita said cheerily, Christmas earrings dangling out from under her blonde bob. "You okay?" She frowned, glancing down at his leg and then up to his eyes.

"Oh – um – yes, fine, I – ah – the snow was in my face all – all the way to work, that's w-why my eyes are watering," he stammered. He rushed for the locker room to change out of his wet jeans and coat and into his scrubs.

He struggled through the morning in absolute silence, not finding the confidence to admit he was hurt. They'd laugh, they certainly wouldn't believe that he'd tripped and fallen in the snow. He was meant to be an adult, and adults didn't do stupid things like this. He couldn't handle the humiliation of being treated as a patient.

Dylan and Zoe arrived in the department just about on time for their shifts. The snow had held them up too, and Dylan had worn a scowl since Zoe pressed a snowball into the back of his neck two streets away. She was smiling into a cardboard cup of coffee, and despite himself, Dylan let loose a wry smile at the sight of Max, draped in tinsel, standing under the mistletoe at the door. Spotting his opportunity, he let Zoe go on ahead to catch Max in a warm embrace, then gathered a handful of snow and dropped the lot of it down the back of her coat. She squealed.

"Dylan Keogh, you little -"

"Language, Dr Hanna," he said sarcastically, as a young mum ushered her son in through the automatic doors. She admitted defeat.

It was busier than usual in the department, and Dylan rolled his eyes as he picked up a pile of notes. At least half of them read 'Ice-caused RTC' or 'slipped on ice'. As Ethan walked past him with his own pile of notes, Dylan couldn't help but noticing that the registrar wasn't walking normally. He avoided looking too closely, because it would just make Ethan uncomfortable, but there had to be something wrong. His whole posture was off, somehow, and was he dragging his right leg behind him?

"Zoe?" he said, once Ethan was out of earshot.

"Hmm?" she replied, not looking up from her notes.

"Zoe, look up, I'm not going to shout across to you." She looked up at last, frowning slightly. "There's something up with Ethan, and he's not going to like it if I go and ask to check him over. He's done something to his leg, the right one I think. He's limping a lot, and he's wincing when he takes a step." Zoe's shoulders sagged.

"I'll bet he fell on the ice this morning on his way to work," she said.

"Well then why wouldn't he tell any-" Dylan stopped short as Ethan walked past again. Zoe gave Dylan a look that said 'Well why do you think?'

Zoe checked to see if there was an empty cubicle, then tried to discretely ask Ethan if he was okay, trying to think of a way to get around the fact he'd probably deny everything.


	15. Chapter 15

**Two chapters in as many days :) II'm definitely back in the rhythm of this story now! Hope you enjoy this chapter, and don't worry, Ethan won't be hurt too badly. It just wouldn't do to have the protagonist fully out of action :'D**

Ethan's cheeks were pink and his mind racing as Zoe led him to a cubicle and pulled the curtain closed. There would be no wriggling out of this one, he was cornered. Would it be better to tell the truth? He didn't know, and the truth sounded so stupid anyway, Zoe would probably laugh, despite all the times she'd promised not to.

"Right, get yourself up on the bed Ethan, so I can have a look at that leg," she said quietly, so that no-one outside would be able to hear who her patient was.

"I didn't want a fuss," he said, almost whispering.

"And I'm not going to give you one," Zoe replied calmly. "What happened?" She watched Ethan frown, and form his face into a pained expression as he slowly swung his leg up onto the bed. His expression seemed conflicted, and she wished she could erase the worries no doubt rushing through his mind.

"I – there was – but – oh for goodness' sake!" he exclaimed after a moment of struggling. "Why can't I just speak?"

"Have you ever noticed," Zoe said, "that you don't stammer when you're angry, or frustrated? Those self-deprecating phrases always come out whole."

 _I suppose because I've had a lot of practice saying them,_ Ethan thought. But outwardly, he ploughed on through his account. "I fell, on the – on the ice outside."

"In the car park?" Ethan nodded. "Did no-one see you? Why didn't you say anything to anyone? You know Rita or Charlie would have checked you over willingly if something was wrong, and they wouldn't say a word." Zoe felt immediately guilty: Ethan dropped his head, looking down, embarrassed. "I'm sorry Ethan, I didn't mean for it to sound like that. I didn't mean to have a go at you."

 _It's true though, isn't it,_ he stopped himself saying. "They would have laughed, I fell like a child outside my place of work. I felt stupid."

"Nobody would have laughed, Ethan," Zoe said solemnly. "And if they had, they would have had me to answer to." She examined his leg carefully, stopping whenever he inhaled sharply. He was too polite, or perhaps too shy to say when she was hurting him. _Without a doubt, doctors are the worst patients,_ she thought. "I'm going to get an X-ray done, just to be on the safe side, I'm concerned about that knee. Do you want a cuppa while you wait?"

"Isn't that a nurse's job?" Ethan said.

"I could ask Rita to make it for you, if it would make you feel better." Zoe smiled, and was glad when he weakly returned it.

"No, it's okay. I just mean – I'm not a proper patient, you don't have to be..."

"Nice to you? Yes I do, because you're always nice to everyone. You look like you could do with a cup of tea, so I'm going to get you one. And Ethan, you're in a cubicle, on a bed, about to get an X-ray. Whether you work here or not, for now at least, you are a proper patient."

Ethan was surprised and embarrassed when Dylan brought in his cup of tea, with a coffee for himself, while he was waiting for the results of his X-ray.

Setting Ethan's tea down next to the bed, he said, "I hope you don't mind, but it was me who told Zoe she needed to check you over."

Ethan shook his head nonchalantly, although inside he was in pieces. _Yes, I do mind, I definitely mind. I was getting along just fine, I didn't need anyone to see or notice, or whatever it is you did, no-one needed to know that I made I complete fool of myself on the car park this morning. And I did make a fool of myself, no two ways about it, how many other thirty-something registrars fall over so badly in the snow that they need an X-ray afterwards?_

"I didn't do it to make you feel small, or to embarrass you," Dylan went on.

"Not only are you deeply sarcastic, but you're a mind-reader too, excellent," Ethan replied, using Dylan's usual sarcastic tone with only slightly less confidence. It took a moment for him to realise he wasn't stammering at all, there wasn't even a slight shake in his voice. Weird.

"I have many talents." Dylan stopped for a moment to drink some coffee. "I was trying to look out for you. I watched my father destroy my mother's confidence when I was a child, and if I can in any way make you believe in yourself a little more, then I'll do it. Her spells of anxiety were completely debilitating, not unlike your own if I'm honest."

"Okay, well, thank you."

"I'm sensing there was a 'but' at the end of that sentence. Go for it, you've got time to kill and I've got patients I don't want to treat. I'm joking," he added quickly, seeing Ethan's expression. "I'm on a break, that's why I'm here."

"It's just, I – there's nothing -"

"Take your time. You probably hear that a lot, but it helps. If you try not to panic that everyone around you is in a rush, the stammer gets better."

Ethan nodded, and continued slowly. "I don't... think believing in my – myself is going to... to make this go away."

"Well, do you? Believe in yourself, I mean?" Ethan hung his head. "There you go. Can't knock it until you've tried it, and I get that it's hard. Took years for Mum to get anywhere with her self esteem once that -" Dylan stopped himself swearing, no doubt someone would overhear and take him to task over it. "Once _he_ was done trampling all over her. Find the little things first, and build up from there." The consultant looked down at his watch. "Damn, I should get back out there. I'm sure your X-ray will be fine."

Ethan was lucky, it was all just bruising.

"Well, I say lucky," Zoe said. "You'll be black and blue by morning. Make sure you take something when you get home and stay dosed up."

"Noted. Thanks... for this, Zoe. I know I'm all right and everything, but... just thanks."

He took Dylan's advice to heart, and at the dinner table that evening Ethan tried to write a positivity list, something one of his college teachers had once suggested. After staring at the blank paper for fifteen minutes, he tore it in two and threw the pen back into the drawer. Not unusually, he missed spectacularly, but he didn't have the heart to go and pick it up. Someone like Lily would never have this kind of trouble writing a list of things they were good at. Lily was just good at everything.


	16. Chapter 16

In Ethan's opinion, Christmas Eve couldn't come around quickly enough. He'd be spending Christmas Day with Cal, for a change, and he was looking forward to it. With the tree up at home, ancient fairy lights strung across the E.D and a very talented school choir singing carols in reception, the festive spirit was spreading through the hospital. Although, some people were falling victim to the season far more easily than others. Max surprised Zoe with a bunch of mistletoe outside resus: after telling him it was probably a poison hazard, she did submit to being kissed in front of everyone.

"Calm yourselves, children, it's not Christmas yet," Dylan had said gruffly, although he had smiled when he thought no-one was looking. Noel and Big Mac had been in charge of the usual collection for the children's ward, which Ethan had given to gladly. (It was a selfish thought, but he was also glad for having not stammered when he spoke to them.) Even Connie had gotten involved, leaving a tray of immaculately iced gingerbread men in the staffroom. It appeared that now her time was not spent in cardiothoracic surgery, her steady hand had been put to good use once more.

But of course, it couldn't be expected that the festivities stretched to everyone.

To everyone else, it seemed that Lily was one hundred percent focused on her work, like a carthorse with blinkers she appeared to be ignoring the excitement which surrounded her. But in truth, even growing up the only rest day had been the 25th, so the days leading up to it were just the same as any other. It had never occurred to her that the festivities started much earlier – as a child her family's Christmas tree was put up far later than those of her classmates and at university she was seen as a spoilsport for not joining in with Christmas trips and parties. Now of course, things were much the same, except she simply wasn't invited for post-shift drinks, so she didn't get a chance to decline when people were invited for a Christmas Eve party. She was _trying_ to be less Scrooge-like, but it was hard when frosty attitudes were being turned her way in return for her just wanting to work hard and get on with things. It was like being in school again, seeing people turn away and whisper "Better hide those decorations, the Grinch is coming," as she passed them. But she was past that time in her life, she would simply get on with things and that was that. Head held high, she ignored them.

It was unfortunate that this came across so rudely to those who didn't understand how cutting their words were proving to be.

Lily's patience was wearing extremely thin by the time she was in resus that afternoon. The sound of carols was weaving its way through the department on the breeze, and she was trying to focus on suturing this wound neatly. In, out, in, out, _come on, you've done this before, it's not at all difficult, get on with it,_ she told herself. Breathing deeply through her nose, she closed her eyes for a second to regain focus. It was unfortunate that at that moment, two things happened to violently distract her once more. Lofty knocked a tray of metal instruments to the ground with a crash which bounced off all four walls, the ceiling and the floor. Lily's ears rang. Ethan pushed open the doors, letting in a louder sound of outside, a mix of people talking and waves of Christmas carols. Two problems. Lily's brain shut down to the essentials to pull her focus back. Two problems, one solution.

"I need to have quiet in here, now!" she said, glaring between Lofty and Ethan, who shifted uncomfortably on the spot as another patient was wheeled in.

An audience. _Damn._ Before he even spoke he knew the stammer would be out again. Might as well get the ritual humiliation over with.

"Lily, M-Mrs Beauchamp said – I mean – she sent me to, she wants -"

"Ethan spit it out!" she said impatiently, all thoughts of her own past anxiety flying out of the window in her frustration.

"Sh-she," Ethan berated himself, for looking so stupid in front of so many people. His obvious nerves were making people turn and stare at him, and he felt his cheeks redden. His heart was beating faster now, and he rubbed the tips of his fingers on his palms.

Dylan had come in with the second patient, and had turned around momentarily when Lily had shouted at everyone. He could see Ethan's cheeks burning and wanted to step in, but his patient had to come first. His only comfort came from the thought that one more person staring might give Ethan the confidence to stand up to Lily, even though he knew there was practically no possibility of that.

Ethan took a deep breath, which didn't help with his dry mouth. "Mrs Beauchamp wanted a word – with – with you -"

"Well I'm a little busy right now," Lily said, looking back down at her half finished suturing.

Ethan hung his head. Before leaving the room, Lofty heard him speak again, though he sounded like he was choking on his words. "She wanted a word with you when you had a spare five minutes."

Lofty was furious. He waited until their patient had been moved to a ward, before broaching the subject with Lily.

"That was a bit harsh, Lily. Don't shoot the messenger and all that. He was only delivering a message and you -."

"Staff Nurse Chiltern," Lily said sharply, pulling up the facade she'd developed to deal with the bullies at school. It hadn't come out for some time, not more so than usual anyway. "You are just a nurse, and you have no right to tell me what is right and wrong. I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions, thank you very much, I do not require your input." And with that, she walked away, unaware of Dylan's eyes following her out of the room.

Connie had wanted to discuss Lily's recent progress, and praise her on discharge times and the like. Lily was sure the office was soundproof, it had to be, she could see the carol singers from where she was standing and could hear nothing when she closed the door behind her.

"I take it you don't want to listen to the choir then," Connie said.

"I've got a headache, that's all," Lily lied, her voice a little too sharp.

"It's Christmas Eve, if you want to leave early we're not short staffed."

 _Not you too,_ Lily thought, _I never had you down as one of Santa's elves._ Outwardly, she said, "I'm fine, a couple of days off and I'll be back on form."

"You won't be joining the rabble for drinks tonight then?" Connie said, using 'rabble' as affectionately as she could, given that she didn't wholly approve of the garishly lit and tinseled reception desk.

"Um, no, I don't really fancy it," Lily almost whispered, omitting the fact that she hadn't been asked to go at all.

Dylan was finally finished with his patient, and set off in search of Lily about ten minutes after she had left Connie's office. She was in the staff room, which was an ideal place for the conversation he was aiming for. Better than 'out on the shop floor' at least.

"Rita, would you give us a moment please?" he said as he walked in.

"Not a problem," Rita said, smiling although her eyes could be read as nothing but confusion.

No sooner had the door clicked shut, when Dylan rounded on Lily. "You might think that Lofty is 'just a nurse', which is a disgraceful judgement to begin with, but you are not as far above him as you would like to think, Dr Chao. I don't often use my position to my advantage, but I'm a consultant, and therefore very much above you. If you thought you didn't have to listen to Lofty, you certainly should make an effort to listen to me. His point still stands, what you just did to Ethan was completely unacceptable. How _dare_ you embarrass him like that, in front of patients and his colleagues? Surely even you must have noticed how much of a difficult time he's having at the moment. But above all, he absolutely did not deserve that... that roasting you gave him, simply for passing on a message. He deserves better, from you of all people. And in what world was it acceptable to respond with 'I'm a bit busy'? Have you lost your mind? That's not just disrespect to him, it's to Mrs Beauchamp as well, remember that. I know you're not going to apologise to him, because you think you didn't do anything wrong, but I want you to realise how much of an impact your actions have. And you need to understand that you cannot bully people into submission just because you're having a bad day."

He was glad that his shift was over now, because he'd certainly ended up speaking much more loudly than he'd intended, no doubt attracting the attention of the whole department with the speed at which news travelled. But he was surprised to have two texts and an email waiting on his phone when he arrived back at the boat. The texts were from Zoe.

 _Okay then Ebenezer Scrooge, don't come and say good-bye before you go home for Christmas, whatever floats your boat. You're the talk of the department already, and no doubt Connie will be on your case on Boxing Day. Have a good one Dylan, I promise not to embarrass myself too much at the party._

 _But good on you, for what you said to Lily. If I'd been there I would have done the same, although maybe not as... viciously? Who cares, it's Christmas, and if it gets her off his case then all credit to you._

The email was a surprise though. It had been sent to his work's email address, which he'd had sent straight to his phone since last year.

 _Dr Keogh,_

 _Thank you for what you did today. You really didn't have to, but I appreciate that you were willing to fight this battle. I'm glad someone was looking out for me. I hope you have a peaceful Christmas._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Ethan Hardy._

 **I wonder if I let my own frustrations at Lily get out a bit too much there? Not sure about this chapter, the idea seemed to work better in my head than out on a screen...  
**

 **Not sure if I'll be updating tomorrow, I've got a Christmas one-shot half finished on my laptop so that'll be my priority. In Ethan's words, here's to everyone having a peaceful Christmas x**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hi everyone, sorry for the hiatus. Things have been messy lately, so I've had neither the time nor the inclination to sit down and get another chapter written. Things feel a bit better now, so maybe there won't be such a long gap before I get round to writing some more. I hope you like this chapter x**

"Are you – um, are you going to the New Year's party later?" Ethan asked his brother, as nonchalantly as he could.

"I was planning to," Cal replied, pulling his Holby City hoodie over his scrubs and running a hand through his hair. "You?"

Ethan looked away, frowning in thought. "I don't want to go," he admitted, in barely more than a whisper. Cal sat down beside him at once.

"Why not? Is everything all right?" He waited for a response from his brother, then realised his mistake as he watched the other man hold his hands awkwardly in his lap and subtly bite the inside of his cheek to suppress his feelings. "Sorry, stupid question."

"Not a stupid question," Ethan contested. "I just don't have any non-stupid answers. I don't know how to describe things without sounding like a petulant child, and I'm constantly a mess anyway so there's probably a high chance of that."

"Stop," Cal said firmly. "Just stop." He put an arm around his brother. "If I could take those thoughts out of your head and just throw them out of that window into the path of a speeding ambulance, I would. You're not a petulant child, and you're not a mess. Anxiety does not constitute a mess."

"Not always, anyway."

"Okay, so your Year Nine history presentation doesn't count. We'll pretend that never happened."

"Agreed," Ethan said, cracking a weak smile.

"If you don't want to go to the party, we won't go."

"You don't have to back out for me," Ethan said quickly. "It's just the noise, and... It sounds mad to say it out loud, you probably wouldn't understand." Cal raised his eyebrows, saying _Try me,_ without words. "I – don't laugh, okay? It's just that – I sound stupid – when I'm feeling anxious already, being in a room full of people is just, I don't even know. They're not louder than usual, they're probably not even loud. But it's suffocating. Maybe no-one in that room is talking to me, but it feels like every sentence is directed my way at full volume. My head gets full, like overflowing full, and I just can't take it. And that's why I can't go to the party tonight."

"Then we'll just go home at the end of the shift."

Ethan looked astounded. "What?"

"If you're not comfortable with the situation, then you're not going. And it's New Year's Eve, ergo I'm not leaving you sat at home by yourself watching the Hootenanny, or whatever it is that people do when they don't go out at New Year's. So we'll both stay in, order a pizza, watch the fireworks on tv and just do quiet things."

Cal had become much more understanding of late. He'd steer Ethan out of difficult situations, sometimes even before Zoe or Rita had noticed things were going wrong. Not having his confidence knocked nearly as much, fewer things were going wrong in the first place. The list of people he stammered in front of was diminishing, and most people in the department would wait for him to finish instead of rushing him. Most people. It was a shame that the one person who seemed to resist having any kind of patience with Ethan, was the person that he seemed to think mattered the most. Cal could see the way Ethan looked at Lily, and how much more agitated he could get in her presence. Zoe could see the admiration in his eyes when she effortlessly took care of handing over a patient in resus. It was surprising that Robyn, being on top of all things gossip in the department, had kept quiet about all the lingering glances that actually went both ways between the two doctors. For goodness' sake, even Dylan could see it, although he'd never admit it.

Lily wished she knew how to be gentle with Ethan. She wanted to echo the kind things her teachers had said to her when she was having dark, silent, isolated days. She wanted to tell him that one day, he'd walk out of the tunnel as if nothing had ever happened. One day things would be normal again and he'd feel like himself. But the only words she could find were sharp and cutting. She wished she could offer him something other than the 'tough love' attitude of her parents. And she wished more than anything that she could explain this to someone, anyone, to stop her looking like Holby's resident villain.

In looking out for his brother, Cal planted seeds in the minds of the other members of the department all day.

"Will we be seeing you in the pub later?" Zoe asked him, just after Max made her jump about a mile by giving her a surprise hug from behind.

"Not sure," Cal said confidently. "Ethan's not looking too good, but he'd never say anything himself. I might just take him home and make sure he's all right to work tomorrow, because I'll bet half of you lot won't be in a fit state tomorrow morning!"

"Too right," Max said. "Especially if this one starts on the tequila like last year!" Zoe slapped him round the head with the notes she had in her hand, but he laughed and ran off down the department.

"Good lord, it's like working with children in this place sometimes," Dylan said sarcastically as he passed them. "And Zoe, if the tequila thing _does_ happen again, please refrain from calling me at four thirty in the morning." Zoe covered her face with her hand in embarrassment as Cal struggled to hold in his laughter.

Ethan found it easier to relax into the shift, knowing there was no longer any pressure on him to attend the New Year's party.

"Dr Hardy, I've been called into resus for an RTC, could you take the patient in cubicle two for me?" Lily asked as Ethan emerged from triage.

He didn't give himself time to stop and think about it, instead he just spoke. "Yes, of course, no problem Dr Chao," he said, fluently and calmly, without a hint of fear of worry in his voice. His hands remained by his sides and didn't feel the need to knot themselves together.

"Thank you, that's a great help. I – well – you're having a good shift today," she observed, nodding encouragingly at him.

It wasn't until later that afternoon that he realised. Not only had he spoken without stammering, to Lily of all people, but she'd actually paid him a compliment. Lily Chao had said something kind and encouraging. Presumably she'd meant it. Wow.

By the end of the shift, when people were beginning to make their way over to the pub, Ethan was feeling... good? It was a long time since he'd described a day like that, the thought was unfamiliar.

"Ready to go home, little bro?" Cal asked as he collected his coat.

"Actually, could we go to the party, just for a little while?" Ethan was very aware of sounding like a little boy, wheedling to go to a sweet shop.

"Sure?" Cal definitely _wasn't_ sure, seeing as he didn't know what had caused Ethan's sudden burst of confidence.

"Um, well I don't know when I'm going to feel this ready for something again, so can we just try it?"

"Why not? Let's go. Just – just give me the nod, okay? If things aren't okay."

"Agreed."

Ethan wasn't sure if he felt quite as sure about this as he had done ten minutes ago, when they reached the doorway of the Hope and Anchor. His hand shook a little, reaching for the door handle.

"Still okay with this?" Cal said quietly.

 _No, not at all, is it too early to say I want to go home?_ "Yeah," Ethan replied, trying to sound breezy. "Just a coke for me, okay?"

They sat at a table by the window. Ethan glanced outside every so often, trying not to feel claustrophobic and smothered by the rising noise level. He wondered why he'd thought this would be a good idea. _Because putting yourself in new situations, out of your comfort zone, is a good idea,_ he reminded himself. But this was so far out of his comfort zone, he might as well be in another country. It was only a pub. Everyone else managed to go there every day, and they enjoyed themselves. But then, everyone else didn't stumble through every day like they were fighting with their insides to make every single decision.

He finished his drink and motioned to Cal that he wanted to leave.

On the way home, Cal tried to gauge how Ethan was feeling. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, it was fine," Ethan said lightly. He crossed the fingers on the hand Cal couldn't see, hoping with everything he had that his brother wouldn't see through the lie.

"Ethan, we're not children any more. I know when you're being, what was it you used to say? _Economical with the truth_." Ethan looked out of the window and didn't know what else to say. He hated this. He could feel the words drying up, shutting down.

"Why can't I ever just have a normal night?" Ethan exploded as soon as the front door to the house was closed. "It's New Year's Eve for God's sake, and we're staying in because I can't get myself together enough to sit in a pub!" He slammed his arm into the breakfast bar, which would have been a lot more dramatic if he hadn't immediately winced in pain.

"Are you all right? Your arm, I mean, not everything else," Cal clarified, trying to diffuse the situation. Ethan relaxed a little and bit his lip. He took a deep breath, in for four and out for seven, like he'd read all that time ago in Zoe's borrowed article. Eventually he nodded. "You're getting there, Ethan," Cal said. "You sat in that pub for nearly an hour, did you realise that? And from the gossip I've heard, a certain registrar actually said something nice to you today. You must have had a stunner of a day for the Ice Princess to notice! Don't put yourself down too much, bro, this isn't going to go away overnight. Go and sit down, put the telly on, and I'll phone for a pizza. Sure, we're not going out, but it doesn't mean we're not going to have a nice New Year's Eve, okay?"


	18. Chapter 18

**Long-ish chapter tonight, hope you enjoy it. Please leave a review and let me know what you think :) x**

Connie looked up from the mountain of paperwork at her desk. Looking out through her office's open door, she could see most of the department, and see that things were working. Whether he believed it or not, Ethan was struggling less and less as the days went by. She watched him for a second, and saw him walk into resus alongside the paramedics. She couldn't hear what they were saying behind closed doors, but as far as she could see he dealt with the handover as well as anyone else could have done. He looked fairly calm too: she didn't see him rub the back of his neck once – a sure fire sign he was beginning to worry.

Inside resus, Rita did as Ethan instructed. His speech was fairly smooth. There were only minor and occasional trips between words now. His eyes darted to the door when Lily came in, but he only seemed to become more determined to succeed in her presence. Not like before, when he seemed to fall back into himself whenever she was in the same room. Rita followed his leads, drawing their patient's bloods and taking the plastic bottles for testing as soon as she could.

"How's Ethan doing?" Zoe asked her quietly, falling into step with the nurse as she walked across the department.

"Amazing. He's barely the same man he was six weeks ago, I can hardly believe it."

"I can," Zoe replied, smiling with mixed relief and pride. "The lack of constant bickering and lengthy silence with his brother has done him all sorts of favours."

"Don't let Cal take all the credit Zoe," Rita countered. "You've done an awful lot for him as well. If he hadn't had you there to talk to, he wouldn't have recovered half as well as he has done."

"I don't think we've reached the end of the road yet, Rita. Anxiety doesn't just get switched off, it'll probably always be there."

"I should have known better than to say that, one of my friends in uni struggled for years after we graduated, even though she didn't have major episodes at all after a while."

"It's dreadful to say, but I think it's likely to make a comeback. It's so unfair, he just doesn't deserve it!"

Exiting resus, Lily overheard the very end of Zoe and Rita's conversation. She wanted to tell them that Ethan _would_ be dealing with this for a long time, likely the rest of his life. It had been ten years at least, for her, and she still worked hard nearly every day to keep her worries and fears bundled together in a neat little space in her stomach so that she could work around them and get on with things. She wanted to tell anyone that she didn't mean to be so cold with people. It was just the way she'd learned to cope with things – to push everyone away was far easier than to let them in and explain everything.

But with Ethan, who was recovering in the same way she had had to, she wanted nothing more than to talk. Properly too, not just the short, often sharp exchanges they'd shared of late. To feel like she wasn't alone in this, even though she knew it wasn't true. She wanted to talk freely about anxiety with someone who wouldn't brush it off as a phase she'd grow out of, or try and solve the problem with some tough love. If she allowed herself to admit it, she wanted Ethan. He was such a kind person, he had time for everyone, but why would he want to even give her the time of day, after how she'd treated him, not just once but on so many occasions?

She saw him at one of the vending machines that afternoon, emptying his pockets for change. Even at a distance, she could see a subtle change in his expression, and she could guess too easily what was going on. He'd fed all the coins in his hand into the machine, and was rolling his eyes in frustration as a fifty pence piece was continually rejected. Lily took her chance to be nice for once.

"Hi Ethan," she said, a hint of shyness in her voice. "Do you need a hand?" He stiffened a little, and she instinctively spoke again. "Don't panic, not on my account anyway."

Ethan's eyes widened. How could Lily be being nice to him? "M-my fifty p-pence keeps getting... rejected." He could have kicked himself for sounding so feeble. All he wanted was a chocolate bar for goodness' sake!

Lily's heart sank. She knew that Ethan was talking to almost everyone else with ease, Connie not included. She was more or less equal to him, they were almost the same age really, and in an alternate universe they'd probably be friends. She didn't dare to think that they'd be anything more. She knew that his deep unease around her was due to her own actions. "Here," she said softly, pushing a coin into his hand and turning to walk away.

"Lily?" he called confidently after her, surprising himself. "Don't you want this back?" He held up his own rejected coin, in exchange for the one she'd given him.

She turned back around, shaking her head. "No, it's okay, don't worry about it." Carrying on down the corridor, she smiled to herself. He hadn't stammered that time.

Connie took a phone call from upstairs that afternoon. It was Hanssen, with whom she often had a strained relationship.

"Mrs Beauchamp," he said smoothly in place of a greeting, his calm voice almost a drawl down the phone.

"Henrik," she replied briskly, having very little patience for the ' depressing giant swede.' She never returned his politeness strategy of using her title, it was just one of her tics, a way of feeling in control. Perhaps that wasn't a wise move, seeing as he was the CEO, but it hadn't served her too badly so far.

"Connie," he relented, dropping his guard a little. "There's a conference on emergency care at St James' in a fortnight, and I'm sending an E.D doctor on behalf of the hospital to give a speech on the golden hour."

Connie's immediate thought was _are you sure about that?_ But outwardly, not wanting to create conflict at the present moment, she agreed, put the receiver down and set about deciding who she would send. She wrote a quick, neat list on the memo pad next to the phone. _Zoe, Dylan, Cal, Lily, Ethan._ Systematically she began to cross them off the list. Dylan wouldn't go, end of story. Zoe was needed in the department, no question, it wouldn't do the department any good to be down by a consultant, even if it was only for an afternoon. Cal wasn't the best representative of the department – he was a good doctor of course, but still. So, Lily or Ethan?

Lily was making a cup of tea in the staffroom when Ethan walked in. Instead of sitting straight down, she said gently, "Would you like a cup of tea?" Ethan nodded, thinking it would be safer to say nothing than to stammer again. He picked up his book from the coffee table and began to read. The cover of the book was obscured with a protector. Lily cleared her throat delicately as she set the two cups on the table in front of them. "What are you reading?" she asked.

Ethan didn't want to appear rude by simply pulling off the cover, so he inhaled slowly, let the breath go, and then spoke, willing himself to succeed. "A... Study in Scarlet," he said, breathing again after the first word when he could feel the stammer coming.

"Arthur Conan Doyle, right? Is it any good?" Lily asked, trying to keep the conversation going now that they almost had something to talk about. "I've always wanted to read the original Holmes stories but I've just never got round to it."

"I really like it," Ethan said quietly. "I've read most of them now, actually, but this one is – my favourite." He stumbled into a lie. It wasn't his favourite, not by a long shot, although it _was_ very good. It was a safe book. Something he read over and over because it made him feel comfortable and not as anxious. But he wasn't about to divulge this to Lily.

"I might have to find myself a copy then." She gave him a half-smile, and tucked her hair behind her ear as she leaned forwards to pick up her cup of tea. Ethan followed suit, and smiled into his cup as he tasted it.

"How – You -" He sighed in frustration. "Sorry, I'm not trying to sound stupid."

"I know. And you don't. Sound stupid I mean," she added quickly. "Don't rush, just breathe first, and don't think about it too much. Focus on the words coming out, not the words you haven't said yet."

Ethan wondered how Lily could possibly have so much advice. He didn't like to ask. He followed her instructions though, and said quite calmly, "How did you know how I take me tea?" He couldn't be sure, but there was a shift in the colour of Lily's cheeks.

"How long have we worked together now? A while, anyway. I've seen you make tea quite a lot of times, and I don't mean that I've been watching you, but you do sort of notice things."

"I suppose you do. B-barely any milk an-and... Sorry, I should just stop." He looked back down to his cup again, furrowing his brows and slumping his shoulders.

"You don't stammer when you're criticising yourself, have you ever noticed that? And don't stop, you were doing so well."

Ethan nodded. "Barely any milk and half... half a spoon of sugar. But you tend t-to.. For goodness' sake!" He took a breath and let it out very slowly. "Brown sugar. If there's any in the cupboard, you're the only one who uses it, except Zoe. She uses it when she gets coffee from the machine."

"You're extremely observant, Ethan," Lily said, making eye contact with him for possibly the first time. She would have liked to describe sparks flying between their eyes, but she wasn't that sentimental, or optimistic for that matter.

They were both silent for a minute of two, stealing glances every so often. Ethan was looking at Lily's hands, which seemed to have tied themselves together the same way his own hands always did, when Connie came into the room. He jumped at the sound of the door opening, and nearly spilt his tea.

"It sounds unhelpful, but don't panic," Lily whispered.

"It's nice to see you two being nice to each other," Connie said, making pointed eye contact with Lily, who looked at the ground instantly. "Dr Hardy, there's a conference coming up at St James' and Mr Hanssen -" She would never drop his title in front of the junior doctors. She would at least save his face in front of them, "wants me to send one of our department to give a talk. I wondered if, with things being so much better at present, if you'd like to represent us? Is that something you think you could manage?"

Ethan's heart dropped through his shoes, through the floor, down into the fiery pits of hell. This could not be happening. Yes, he could now treat patients without making a mess, but that didn't mean he was ready for _this._ He doubted if he'd ever be ready to do something like this. He wondered why, exactly, his lips were moving.

"I think that would be fine, Mrs Beauchamp. I'll get back to you with a rough draft in the next couple of days, if that's okay with you?"

Lily was stunned. How was he agreeing to this? She hoped with everything she had, that he wasn't just agreeing because it was easier and less embarrassing than saying no.


	19. Chapter 19

**Quite a Lily-centric chapter tonight, hope you like it :)**

Ethan had projected an image of serenity to Connie as she told him about the speech at St James'. The Clinical Lead hadn't suspected a thing, but Lily had seen a subtle shift in his stance and manner. She only recognised it because at the age of sixteen she'd done exactly the same thing.

It was Lily's first half term in Year Twelve. She hardly knew her way around the place at all yet, and definitely didn't know any of the teachers well enough to talk about what was happening to her. Lessons were uncomfortable experiences, every single one. She remained quiet as much as she could, because that's how she had coped with her mild shyness in secondary school. It wasn't that she didn't want to answer questions, or even ask a few. It was simply that she couldn't escape the cutting remarks of her classmates.

"Well of course _Lily_ knows the answer."

"God she must get such a kick out of making us all look like morons. I wonder what's it's like inside her geeky little head."

And the worst, the absolute worst. In a class she loved, chemistry, where everything just made sense and she rarely struggled, they'd made her feel so small. It was the first time she'd spoken in class that week, and the response from the back of the class had been, "For God's sake Lily, you couldn't leave one to us for once? Had to prove you were right, as per. Bloody -" And then there was that word that she'd tried so hard to delete from her memories. The racial slur that made her skin crawl even ten years in the future. But the teacher hadn't heard. That was their trick. Dropping their words in underneath the sound of the teachers' voices so none of them would notice. She felt fragile walking around the college, but none more so than when her biology teacher had dropped a huge bombshell.

"For your half-term interim reports, I am required to give a mark on your presentation skills." At these words alone, Lily's stomach lurched uncomfortably. "As we're about to close up on the cells topic, I thought it would be a good idea for each of you to choose a cell type we've studied, and produce a presentation which the rest of the class can use to revise from." There was a hum of muttering as people turned to the rest of their respective lab benches to discuss which kind of cell they would choose for their presentation. "And to make it fair," Mr Crawford said loudly, drawing attention back to himself, "you'll all select your cells by drawing them from a hat. Well, a bowl, but I think you get the idea."

They queued and pulled a slip of paper from the bowl one by one. Avoiding the jostle at the front of the line, Lily let herself slip to the very back. She picked up the very last slip of paper from the blue ceramic bowl, with a quiet sigh that was missed by her classmates, who were already clamouring over their own choices and trying to bargain with each other to swap. Lily knew that whatever she chose she would be keeping: it wasn't as if anyone would want to swap with her.

"Are you all right, Lily?" Mr Crawford asked. "You seem very quiet this week."

Lily nodded, not meeting his eye. "I'm fine Sir, really. Just – um – adjusting to the – the workload."

"If there's anything I can do, let me know. Don't let this lot get you down, okay?" he added quietly. Lily's cheeks burned. He had noticed something was going on. She nodded again and returned to her seat. It was almost the end of the lesson, so Mr Crawford didn't bring the class back to order before the bell rang. The volume seemed to increase uncomfortably as Lily unfolded her slip of paper, revealing the words 'stem cells' in loose block capitals. She relaxed her shoulders a little. The bell rang, making her jump. She cleared her things away into her bag as quickly as she could and forced her way out of the room, determined not to be last for once.

The day of the presentations dawned cool and rainy. The sky was a grim steely grey, matching Lily's state of mind. She wrung her hands as she sat in her seat in the biology lab. As Mr Crawford began asking for volunteers to go first, she pulled her cardigan sleeves over her hands and firmly averted her gaze to the posters on the wall, giving the impression at least that she was paying attention. Glancing up at the clock, then mentally counting how many students were in her class, she worked out that there would be three too many people to give their presentations in this lesson, maybe four or five at a push. If she could hold on and not be picked for all that time, she wouldn't have to do it today. As one person after the other walked calmly up to the front to deliver their talk, she felt her heart beat more intensely against her ribcage. Her palms were clammy, she knew, because she'd wiped them tensely on her jeans twice already. Breaths were sharp and fell out of her in sighs. She could feel herself getting more light-headed as every minute went by.

She raised her hand after the next talk, tasting blood as she broke the skin on her bottom lip. She licked it nervously.

"Lily, are you volunteering to go next?"

Every swear word she knew instantly flashed through her head. She hadn't thought this through at all.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, which, after so long practically depriving herself of oxygen, didn't help in the slightest. "I j-just – I – no," she stammered. Her cheeks were red, she was sure of it. "C-can I... be ex-excused f-for a few minutes... please?" She heard people around her tittering and making comments, but it all blurred into one noise.

"That's enough," he said to the rest of the class, sounding agitated. "Go on, Lily."

She had spent the last twenty minutes of the lesson in a toilet cubicle, with her knees drawn up to her chest, wiping away tears which spurted down her cheeks non-stop. The only thing that made her return to the class after the bell was her bag under the desk. Otherwise she would have just started running with a mind to never return as long as she lived.

In the coming months, Lily would decide that this had been her first panic attack. She would spend hours trawling the internet trying to find away to make sure that it never happened again. And she definitely wouldn't ask her parents for help, because they just didn't understand. She had hidden that interim report from them, so that they never saw that she hadn't _technically_ fulfilled the requirements for the term in biology. She had given the presentation one lunchtime a few days later, understanding fully that without doing it for the whole class, she'd risk more than just a poor report. It was just one more thing that Amy Prince could use against Lily to make the whole year hate and ridicule her constantly.

But twenty six year old Lily _did_ understand. Which was why she wanted to reach out to Ethan and check that he hadn't just agreed to something which would make his entire situation a whole lot worse.

At home, Ethan was flipping through pages of ancient notes, trying to construct a workable presentation. But it wasn't right, it all seemed to be random facts which were relevant to approximately nothing that he was trying to get across. He tried to remember what his mum might have told him in this situation. Probably that he should have been honest in the first place and told Mrs Beauchamp that he wasn't in a position to do this. He put his pen down and noted that his hands were shaking and cold. Sighing, he was so disappointed in himself that he could have cried. He had kicked this demon, he'd been fine. He hadn't struggled in weeks, not really, and he was even on speaking terms with Lily, if you could call it that. That had been the icing on the cake. But now with one stupid decision, he was back to square one. Ethan picked up the stack of papers in front of him and launched them across the room. Then, resting his head in his arms on the desk, he could no longer stop himself crying. Furious, humiliated, disappointed tears. Why couldn't he just be normal, like everyone else?

He sat bolt upright when his phone began to ring in his pocket. _Incoming call from Caleb Knight,_ the screen read. Wiping his eyes roughly with his sleeve, Ethan swiped the screen to reject the call.

"Not tonight, Cal," he whispered.


	20. Chapter 20

**Hi everyone, sorry for the unacceptably long hiatus. My own anxiety has been tricky to deal with of late, and I haven't felt like writing, but I hope this chapter is okay nonetheless. Let me know with a review please x**

Zoe took a slow, deep breath to refocus and melt away the stress that this shift had sent her way so far. She looked up from the pile of notes in front of her and blinked hard. Having taken just these few precious seconds for herself, she felt miles better, and wished that she could teach Ethan to do the same. She had heard about his agreement to speak at the conference, and had certainly noticed a difference in him since he'd done so. Mistakes had started cropping up in his work again. Nothing too serious, nothing that deserved a serious intervention. Not yet. But they were mistakes nonetheless, and more than once she'd had to stop him and change the course of action to make sure that nothing further went awry. It wasn't good, but having tried to help Ethan before, she wasn't sure if she could do it again, or indeed if he'd accept the help a second time. It had been a while since she'd had near on half the team looking out for him and keeping him out of panic-inducing situations.

Zoe sat up straighter as Dylan put a cardboard coffee cup on the table in front of her.

"You weren't concentrating on that paperwork. You've been reading the same line for the last three minutes," he said .

"Well observed, thank you," Zoe retorted, nodding gratefully in reaction to the coffee.

Dylan followed Zoe's gaze, and his eyes fell on the cubicle where Ethan was working alongside Lily, for about the fifth time in two days. "He's not good, is he?"

"No, he's not. It's getting worse for him, practically back to square one, and I don't know how to help him a second time around."

"He's not back to square one though," Dylan stated, as though this was obvious. Zoe looked at him like he'd suddenly grown a second head, so he continued. "He's not spending every day fearing that Lily's going to rip him down any more, is he? That's some progress that hasn't been undone, at least."

Zoe had to concede that Dylan was right. What she'd neglected to notice was that the improved relationship between the two younger doctors was holding Ethan up when he was on the brink of falling apart again. She watched the two of them more closely. Lily was doing most of the talking, Zoe could see, even though she couldn't hear precisely what was being said. Despite the shake in his hands (which was, she reminded herself, only detectable because she knew it was a tell-tale sign to look for when she was worried about him) Ethan's expression was fairly calm. If anyone knew how to stand anxiously, it was Ethan, but even his usual nervous stance seemed more at ease in the cubicle in Lily's company. Zoe kept watching as Lily smoothly handed over to him to start administering the intravenous drugs, and admired her patience; for someone who had initially been so short with the registrar, Lily had made a miraculous change. Zoe winced as the shake in Ethan's hands became more evident – the needle was getting closer to the patient's skin. But Lily put her hand on top of Ethan's to steady him, then let go, to reveal the perfectly skilful movement Zoe expected of him.

"If you keep biting your lip like that, not only are you going to make yourself bleed, but you're going to get your lipstick all over your front teeth," Dylan commented drily. "She's trying, I'll give her that."

"She's doing a bloody good job as well, from what I can see," Zoe said quietly.

"As are you with your bottom lip, stop it!" Dylan passed her a tissue, and she dabbed at the bead of blood she'd drawn from her skin, embarrassed.

As the shift went on, Lily and Ethan ended up going their separate ways in the department.

Lily spent the early afternoon treating patients who had been brought in as a result of the local football game. She would never find a place in her heart to sympathise with people who would have been much better off had they not drunk so much alcohol, or, even better, had stayed at home and watched the match on TV, instead of attending the match and picking fights with fans of the opposing team. She tried to stay calm, but after the fourth comment about her appearance she began to lose her temper.

"I think you ought to know," she said hotly, feeling her face flush pink, "that I'm only treating you because the Hippocratic oath demands that I don't discriminate on the basis of your actions, or my opinions of you. You're living in the stone age if you think that the state of my hair, or the colour of my skin, has any basis at all on how good I am at my job. Now sit there and let me treat you, or get out, because the rest of this department's doctors are tied up trying to deal with the rest of the fallout from this afternoon's match." The man sloped off, and Lily was secretly very glad that he had presented with no more than minor injuries which he could fix himself once he'd sobered up a bit.

Ethan took his lunch break early, trying to claw back some control. His breathing was shallow and rapid, and his heart raced uncomfortably in his chest. There was a panic attack building, he knew it. He hated being reduced back to this state, after having been so close to okay for so long. He sat in the staffroom with a cup of tea in front of him. He tried to concentrate on the steam rising from it instead of the tangle of emotions coursing through him, but the tea went cold and stopped steaming before he could start feeling better.

Dylan entered the staffroom and looked Ethan up and down. The younger man was sitting at the table, his shoulders rounded and hunched and he leaned on the tabletop, staring blankly at an apparently cold cup of tea. His eyes were wide and his expression fearful. Dylan wasn't sure what to do.

"Ethan?" he said, as gently as he could muster. The younger doctor still flinched, like he'd been so entrenched in his uncomfortable train of thought that he hadn't even noticed the consultant come in. "Look, if you're feeling rotten, call it a day. You're not -" Dylan stopped himself short. He'd been about to say _You're not doing anyone any favours in this state,_ but that wouldn't do Ethan's current mental state any favours at all. Instead, he said, "If you want to save face, just wait in the on-call room until the end of your shift, and I'll cover for you and say you weren't feeling good or something, if anyone asks, then you can go home at the normal time."

Ethan couldn't make eye-contact with Dylan: he felt so embarrassed but was equally so grateful. "I can't," he whispered, counting the coffee mug rings on the table in front of him instead of looking at Dylan. He felt so stupid, so useless. "I really can't. I'll be fine, and – I – h-h – haven't – you got b-better things t... to do than look out for mmmm-me being a waste of sp-s-space?"

Dylan sighed internally, unused to feeling this kind of sympathy. "You're not, never have been, and never will be, a waste of space, okay? But you're not fine right now, and you need to take some time. I know it must be frustrating for you, after you've been doing so much better of late, but -" He was interrupted by his pager buzzing in his pocket. "Bugger. I'm sorry Ethan, I have to go. I'll send Zoe, or -"

"N-no. It's-s okay. You go, I'll be okay, I p-p-p... promise." Ethan ran a frustrated hand through his hair and sighed, angry with himself for stuttering so heavily.

Dylan didn't want to leave him in this state, but didn't have much choice.

Lily's afternoon wasn't improving. She knew her temper was shortening almost by the minute, and she feared that it was only a matter of time before she completely exploded and said something she regretted. Since the incident with the football hooligan patient, she'd received a ticking off from Connie for breaching four hours with an elderly patient, but it hadn't been her fault. If upstairs weren't hurrying things along, what could she do? The department was filling and Lily felt stressed. Back in resus again, she wished she could be anywhere else, because this stuffy room was hellish, and in no way conducive to changing her state of mind.

It wasn't long before Ethan's solitude in the staffroom was interrupted for a second time. This time it was Lofty, who had no idea about Ethan's anxiety problems at all – so when Rita had asked him to get another doctor into resus, he couldn't see the issue.

"Ethan, mate, we need another doctor in resus, it's getting pretty busy in there."

"R-right, okay, I'll be right there."


	21. Chapter 21

**Hi :) Sorry for the very short chapter, but I hope you like it anyway. Let me know what you think with a review x  
**

When Ethan arrived in the doorway of resus, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else, Zoe's heart sank. She made eye contact with Dylan over their patient, and a rushed exchange followed.

"Zoe, surely he can't stay, look at him."

"Dylan, I can't send him out!" Zoe was acutely aware that removing him from the situation would only embarrass him and escalate what looked like a brewing anxiety attack.

"Now is not the time to be considering how much you're about to embarrass him," Dylan hissed as if he'd read her mind. "You need to think about the patients in this room, and whether they need -"

Before he could go on, Zoe cut across him, calling across resus. "Dr Hardy, in bay two with Dr Chao, if you will." Dylan rolled his eyes at her, incredulous.

"What on earth is going on in that funny little brain of yours?"

"Quoting Sherlock at me is not getting you anywhere," Zoe retorted. "We need the extra pair of hands in here, don't deny it. And it's not as if anything is going to go wrong if he's with Lily. They're on good terms at the moment."

 _At the moment_ , Dylan thought. But the buzzing heart monitor beside his patient prevented him saying anything else.

Zoe glanced up every now and then, and seeing Ethan's obvious discomfort made it difficult to concentrate on her own task.

Ethan's hands were shaking uncontrollably, and while he waited for Lily to get him up to date on the patient's condition, he jammed them in his pockets. He counted his breaths in and out, wishing they weren't quite so fast, and that his heart wasn't beating quite so fiercely. His eyes darted around the bed, taking in details which might help him do something useful.

Lily was stressed. It had been a long day, and her shift so far had destroyed her mood completely. She rubbed her hands together, trying to analyse test results and observe the patient at the same time. There had to be something she was missing. There had to be. She rubbed her hands together impatiently, staring at the numbers on the monitor in front of her. Her eyes fell on Ethan, who was glancing about anxiously. Why wasn't he helping? Now more than ever, she needed another input. She couldn't solve this by herself, couldn't he see that?

Later, she would deeply regret what she did next. Her head would be filled with "what-if's" and "should have done's" and a stinging feeling inside her like a plaster had been ripped away without warning.

"Lily," he began, his voice trembling.

"What?" she replied sharply, not looking up.

"H-have yyou... ch-ch-ch -" His breath was coming raggedly now, and Ethan could see stars from hyperventilating. He gave up, cut to the chase, and tried to spit out the crux of his sentence. "Pne-pnem..." He shook his head. He wanted to write it down, something, anything that might help, because he thought he knew. But then -

"Ethan, for God's sake! Get it together! You're in resus, lives are depending on you, hurry up and speak, or get out!"

Defeated, humiliated and feeling about two inches tall, Ethan knew everyone had heard. Resus had gone deathly quiet, and against this backdrop, he could hear every breath, every tick of the clock, every minute beep of the monitors around the room. His fight-or-flight mechanism was in overdrive, but he could do neither. He was rooted to the spot and was powerless to stop his eyes filling with tears. He wanted to clamp his hands over his ears and curl up into a ball. Inside he was closing down and speeding up at the same time, and he knew that didn't make any sense. He was frozen to the spot, the world moving around him like those disorienting montages in films when everything seems to blur uncontrollably. It all suddenly came back into sharp focus, when Zoe's calm voice cut through the fog like a knife.

"I need a porter over here to take this patient upstairs. Dr Keogh, can you take over in bay two, please? Ethan, take a breather, and Lily, my office, **now**."


	22. Chapter 22

**I hope you like this chapter - it's ridiculously long compared to the last few, but there was a lot of important things I felt like I had to fit inot this chapter. Let me know what you think with a review, please, as I'm still not sure about it x**

Realising exactly what she'd done, Lily clapped a hand over her mouth, both hands tingling. What had she done?

Ethan stumbled into the on-call room and didn't even think to lock it when he slammed the door behind him. He collapsed onto the bed, curling tightly into a ball even though he couldn't breathe, even though he was seeing stars and his field of vision was closing up. This had to be what dying felt like, and he didn't even care. He didn't want to have to leave this room and face the music, knowing that by the time he did, word would have got around the department and _everyone_ would know what he'd done. He'd done this to himself, he'd been so useless that even Lily had turned on him again. She'd been so patient with him recently, and he'd thought that maybe they were proper friends at last. But his own incompetence and utter inability to do his job had messed all that up.

Lily was sitting in Zoe's office, her elbows on her knees and her head resting in her hands. She fought back tears: Zoe was angry, furious even, and crying wouldn't get her anywhere. With a start, Lily realised that her internal monologue only had one source. Her parents. On the occasions when they'd become angry with her as a child, which had only become more frequent as she moved into young adulthood, she'd had to stop herself crying because it was just a sign of weakness. Even as an anxious, stressed teenager about to topple into a panic attack, she had never once let out her emotions to her parents.

As Zoe came into the room, Lily sat bolt upright at once. She waited for the onslaught, she wanted Zoe to be furious with her; she knew she completely deserved it. Ethan had trusted her, and she'd well and truly blown it. She was set on edge by Zoe's lack of apparent fury – was the consultant waiting, trying to catch her off guard before snapping?

Zoe set down three green files, then leaned against the edge of her desk. When she eventually spoke, every syllable shook with emotion that Lily couldn't place. There was anger, yes, she'd expected as much. But there was... frustration... and disappointment. That was the worst.

"Do you have _any_ idea what you've done?" Zoe said in a low voice. Lily hung her head. Now was not a good time to say that yes, she probably did have a pretty good idea. "Have you even got the _slightest_ idea of what he's been going through?"

Lily looked up, her cheeks burning. "I haven't, and I can't even imagine -"

"None of us can imagine, Lily. Ethan's had a hellish year, and your attitude hasn't helped at all." Zoe's voice softened a little as she talked about Ethan, as though even describing him angrily would make things worse. "He's been fighting with an undiagnosed anxiety disorder since his mother passed away, and I know for a fact that he's been really fighting every day, sometimes just to get out of the house. He hates it, hates the fact that he can't just get on with it like he wants to, and he needs the people around him to help, not to tear him down. _He trusted you,_ Lily. _I_ trusted you. That's why I sent him over to work in your bay. I watched you being short with him and not accepting that maybe he just needed half a second longer to keep pace with you, and it made me feel sick. I thought I'd seen a flicker of change in you, I saw you working with him this morning and honestly it was a beautiful thing to see." Zoe's gentle tone suddenly dropped. "I thought you had changed," she said coldly. "I didn't think it would take you all of two hours to rip him back down again."

"I'm – I'm so sorry," Lily whispered. "I didn't mean -" She stopped herself, because it wasn't true. In that single heated moment, in utter frustration and anger, she had meant every word she said. Lily knew that Ethan would know this too, and it made her stomach turn, remembering his face when she'd spoken to him like that, her words laced with venom. She looked down into her lap and realised she was too numb even to cry.

"Do you really think it's me you should be apologising to? I really don't think you understand. You take your voice for granted, Lily. You just walk into a room and speak, and you think nothing of it, and neither did I until recently. But he walks into a room and has to psyche himself up just to say 'good morning.' Can you possibly get your head around that? Your attitude towards Ethan is disgusting." The silence after Zoe's outburst was profound. With emotion rising within her, Lily felt the silence pulsating in her ears.

"Can I go and speak to him?" she said quietly. Her cheeks were burning; she was so ashamed of what she'd done.

"I hardly think he's going to let you, and I don't blame him. By all means go and try, you've certainly got some bridges to build."

Leaving Zoe's office, Lily headed for the toilets first. She splashed her face with cold water, feeling pins and needles spread up her neck. There were so many things that she had to say, but it would be near impossible to clear the air now, having put so much between herself and Ethan now. She looked at herself in the mirror above the sink. Her eyes were rimmed with red. She ran a hand across her hair, and pulled the bobble from the neatly tied bun at the back of her head, letting her hair slip down onto her shoulders. Thinking hard, she stroked the faded scars across her left hand and wondered how in the world she could ever make amends.

Walking back through the E.D, Lily was very aware of all eyes being on her. Not that she blamed them particularly: if she'd seen someone lose their temper like she had, she'd probably be staring too. Not to mention the fact they'd all heard Zoe giving her the dressing down of her life.

Composing herself, she knocked nervously at the door of the on-call room. No response. She pressed her ear to the keyhole.

"Ethan? Ethan, please, please let me in." There was no response again. She listened once more, harder this time. She could hear irregular gasps for breath, and – her blood ran cold in the realisation that she was the reason for this. He was sitting, alone, in the throes of a panic attack, and a bad one at that, by the sound of things. Lily thought back to all the times she had done this herself in the past, and tried the door, knowing that if Ethan had been that desperate to escape, he probably wouldn't have thought to lock it. The handle gave way beneath her hands and she sighed with relief. She locked the door behind herself, but had to stop herself swaying dizzily when she saw Ethan. He was sitting at the desk, hunched over and trying to write something down while tears rolled freely down his cheeks, his shoulders heaving with the effort of breathing so sharply.

"Ethan," Lily said, her voice low, and quiet, exactly how she would have liked someone to speak to her when she'd been in this situation. "Please come away from the desk."

"I – can't," he gasped. "Have – t-to finish... th...thi – writing f-for Mmm... Mrs Beauchamp."

Lily looked over his shoulder. Ethan noticed, and scrunched the sheet of paper under his left forearm. In his unco-ordinated fumble, he knocked it off the desk, and it fluttered gently to the ground.

"I know that I'm the last person that you want to see right now, and I don't blame you one little bit for that, but let me help you. Whatever this is can wait, let me help you first," she said calmly. Ethan pushed back his chair from the desk and stood up quickly. Lily saw him screw his eyes shut and take an unbalanced step to his left. She took his forearm at once to steady him, and spoke very carefully, leading him away from the desk. "I know that right now this feels like the worst thing that has ever happened to you, and I don't want to devalue that feeling, because it is perfectly valid. But this is only a panic attack, a sudden and overwhelming feeling of acute anxiety. It cannot physically hurt you, and I need you to remember that. This is a heightened response to a triggering situation, and it **will** pass, okay? Just sit down here, okay, and I'll sit next to you. You will be okay, Ethan, I promise. This will pass." She left a space between them, and observed him as he leant his head back against the wall. One hand clawed at the neckline of his scrubs while the other was clenched into a fist at the nape of his neck. She knew better than to feed her own emotions into this situation, although her urge to apologise and try to put everything right was getting stronger by the second. "Try to stop fighting it, Ethan, getting angry with yourself will only make it worse."

Tears were rolling down Ethan's cheeks and he screwed his eyes shut again. Forgetting all of her mistakes, how humiliated and pathetic she'd made him feel, he sounded completely desperate as he spoke to Lily. "Lily, I – I c-can't … breathe."

"You can, Ethan, I promise that you can. I'm certain that I'm the very last person you'd even think about listening to, but please trust me." She shuffled round until she was sitting in front of him. "Breathe with me, okay? Follow my breathing." She watched Ethan focus on the rise and fall of each of her breaths, and although his own shook, they began to slow down. Part of Lily wanted to hold him, remind him that he wasn't falling apart, and that she wasn't alone. But no-one had ever done the same for her, she didn't have the first idea of how to use affection as a method of comfort. And besides, Ethan wouldn't want her, of all people, to give him a hug. She didn't like herself very much at the moment, so she guessed that he probably hated her guts.

They both sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, but it took a while for Lily to realise that Ethan was leaning against her as much as he was the wall. He was shuddering less now, although she could hear his teeth chattering slightly.

Ethan realised what he was doing about a minute after Lily turned her head to check if he was all right yet. He sat bolt upright, and felt his cheeks return to full colour and then some.

"Sorry, I d-didn't mean to d-d-do that," he murmured.

"Don't be sorry," Lily said quietly. You were in the middle of a panic attack, I wasn't about to throw you off."

"How did y-you know that's w-what was ha-happening to m-me?"

Lily could see him berating himself for his stammer internally, there was a fall in his face once he'd managed to release the last syllable. She wasn't ready to tell him yet. She broke eye contact with him, and began looking for the piece of paper which had fallen to the floor when he'd come to sit down with her. "Ethan, what were you writing?" She felt awful; tears filled Ethan's eyes again as he picked up the sheet of paper he'd tried to hide by scrunching up and pushing behind him. He pushed it into her hands now, and she put a hand to her mouth as she looked up and down the page. It was smudged dreadfully, with tears and unco-ordinated brushes of the hand, but there were a few words that she could pick out. _Constant humiliation... not coping... a terrible doctor._ And then, the very worst. _Resignation._

"Ethan, please, not this."

"What else c-can I do?" he cried. "I s-spend every sssingle day in this p-place trying not to mmmake a t-t-total fool of myself. Everyone knows I can't keep going ind-ind... indefinitely, not like this. I'm p-putting lives at r-risk Lily, and I can't l-live with myself knowing that I could have put a st-stop to all of this..." Ethan took a deep breath, suppressing his stammer for a few moments. "Everyone saw, Lily, they all saw me fall apart. I can't go back in there, with them all knowing that I can't cope with the pressure. I'm not a good doctor Lily, and everyone knows it. I can't stay."

Lily's insides burned, hearing him repeat things that she'd put into his head. The only time his stammer dropped like that was when he truly believed what he was saying. These were no longer the ramblings of an anxious mind, these were thoughts that had permeated into his moments of calm.

"Don't leave, Ethan," she said simply. "Please don't go."

"G-give me one good reason," he said, sounding utterly defeated.

"Because you do so much good here. You're valued out there like you wouldn't believe. There's not a single person out there who would want this to finish you off. There's no reason for you to believe that you can't continue to be an amazing doctor."

"Other than the f-fact I can't even g-get … a f-full sentence out with-without sounding l-like a m-moron."

"Stop, please, Ethan. You have to stop destroying yourself like this."

"Easy for you to say," he muttered under his breath.

"I know," Lily said clearly, just loud enough to ensure that he'd definitely heard her. He looked at her incredulously. "I …" Lily resisted for a moment. To tell him this was to drop the very last of her armour, and break down walls she had built up years ago to avoid all of this. "I've been where you are now, and I'd have given anything to make it all stop. I haven't always been so... so cold, like I have been out there recently. I want to help you, because I think I know how. When... when I was in college, I went through the same. There were... people... who took away everything I had. They took away every shred of confidence that I had." Lily drew her knees up to her chest as a protective barrier, and let her hair fall in front of her face. She hadn't felt this small and exposed for a long time. "They turned an entire year group, three hundred strong, completely against me. I was so anxious and scared that there were less than ten people that I could talk to. I was selectively mute, with severe anxiety and regular panic attacks for probably five or six years." Still looking down, Lily felt tears falling down her cheeks. This was her very last defence, gone. Lily Chao did not cry, but perhaps that was why she was now sitting in the on-call room letting it all out and breaking her heart sobbing for the very first time. "They took my voice, Ethan, and I can't begin to tell how appalled I am that I've done the same to you. I – I'm so sorry, Ethan."

Ethan's eyes were wide.

"I'm not trying to make your problems seem small, please don't think that I am. I want you to understand that I know how it is to have people make you feel like you can't cope. I'm so sorry Ethan. If anyone should be resigning it should be me. I'm not a nice person, I shouldn't be in a profession that requires you to care because for so long I just didn't. I built up such high walls to block everything out. I sucked up to my teachers and lecturers because that was the only way I could think of to protect myself and ignore what was happening around me. I don't know how to put into words how much I want to apologise to you."

"Then don't," Ethan said quietly. He wasn't stammering now. Lily's shoulders were shaking with each intake of breath now, and he felt like he was taking control of himself. "It's okay, Lily. It's all out in the open, and I think we're both going to be all right." He looked at her left hand, resting on her knees which were still tight against her chest. He saw the winding scars and didn't want to know how they had come to be there. But he rested his hand on top of hers, the gentlest gesture of comfort he could think of. Lily's hand flinched violently: she was so unused to any acts of affection. But Ethan didn't remove his hand. Despite it all, in a complete reversal of the situation, she also needed to know that she wasn't alone. She'd made him realise that he wasn't incompetent, and he was good for something.

Lily eventually relaxed her hand and allowed the feeling of his skin on hers to seep through her. She wasn't sure she'd ever forgive herself, but Ethan, with his good heart and pure intentions, through some kind of miracle, appeared to have forgiven her.


	23. Chapter 23

**Sorry for the ridiculous break between uploads! I've been completely stuck on what to write, even though I've had general ideas in my head for ages. I hope you like this chapter nonetheless, please leave me a review, if only to let me know if this works as a follow on from the last one, which I wrote so long ago now!**

"Are you sure?" Lily asked Ethan. He looked pale, and utterly exhausted by his panic attack, but was insisting he was ready to leave the on-call room.

"Of course not," he said weakly, before adding, "but I have to face the music some time, don't I? If I don't resign, Mrs Beauchamp will have my job for this anyway. She won't keep a doctor who can't function normally." He looked disappointed in himself, but Lily tried to build him up a little.

"You do yourself a great disservice, Ethan, and everyone knows it. Your mental health is nothing to be ashamed of, and it doesn't keep you from being a good doctor. This is beside my point, but equally it doesn't stop you being a good person. You're the kindest person I have the pleasure of knowing." She met Ethan's eye, but only for a second, before his anxiety overtook him and he looked away.

"Let's get it over with, then," he said quietly. As he took the door handle, Lily put her hand on his shoulder. When he didn't protest, she took this as a sign to leave it there.

Ethan wasn't quite so ready when they actually reached Connie's office. He stopped, eight paces away, frozen in his tracks.

"I can't," he said, in a small voice.

"You can," Lily whispered. "But would you like me to knock, instead?" He nodded gratefully. She knew it was gestures like these that she would have appreciated a thousand fold when she had felt this way. Anything to break through the isolation that anxiety could make you believe was real. In truth, she was nervous too; it wasn't as though Connie would have nothing to say to her for the role she'd played in Ethan's breakdown today. But she swallowed her nerves in order to at least appear strong, for Ethan's sake. As much as she would have preferred, at this point, to be honest with him, they couldn't very well stand here all day, and he needed someone to take calm control of this situation.

Connie invited them in at once. She sat at her desk, her fingers steepled and her face an unreadable mask. Zoe stood to her right, in Dylan's signature pose of hands on hips. Her face gave away far more that Connie's; anger radiated from her - clearly she hadn't mellowed any since speaking to Lily an hour ago.

Everyone was surprised when Ethan spoke first, and even more so when they heard what he had to say.

"I'm not coming back tomorrow."

Accidentally, Lily let out a gasp. "Ethan, don't, you're worth more than that, you're so much better than this!"

"That's enough, Dr Chao," Connie said sharply. "This is Ethan's decision, and, if a little rash, it must remain that way."

"Yes," Zoe agreed. "And are we just going to gloss over the fact that the last time Ethan's job was in question, it was your fault?"

Lily looked at the floor. Her hands were knotted behind her back and she couldn't bear to look and see Ethan's reaction to this. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean for this to go so far. I lost my temper, and I shouldn't have said what I did. Ethan's mental health doesn't stop him being ten times the doctor I'll ever be. I hate myself when I think of what I've put him through."

Both Zoe and Connie looked surprised, but Lily made no move to explain her words. It was Connie who responded first. "That may be, but the fact still stands that you have acted way out of turn, and Ethan has more or less tendered his resignation, on what he sees as reasonable grounds. I agree with him, actually. If he believes he needs this time to recover himself, then I think he ought to take it."

"Can we stop talking about him as if he's not in the room?" Lily said hotly. "You can't let him leave, because you don't understand what that will do to him." She wanted them to understand, she wanted them to listen to what she was saying about anxiety without having to spill her own story.

"Oh, and you _do_ know?" Zoe said, one eyebrow raised like she didn't believe a word Lily was saying.

"Don't be cross with Lily," Ethan said suddenly. "I know why you want to be, but please don't."

"I know enough." Lily's answer was low, almost challenging. She knew she was on dangerous ground right now, but she didn't care if it meant Ethan could be persuaded to keep his job by someone with more gravitas than herself. "People with an anxiety disorder are more at risk of depression as a result of their negative thought patterns." She turned to Ethan at this point, who was still standing next to her with a look of glazed confusion on his face. Lily was surprised that Ethan took a step closer to her at this moment, and even more so when he took her hand in his, very discretely hidden behind them. She hadn't realised the emotion in what she was saying, but there were tears in her eyes. Very embarrassed, she kept going. "I think that if Ethan is allowed to leave, with no plans to return, then he's exactly the kind of person who would suffer as a result of not having the correct support systems in place. And I wouldn't want him to go through that, not on top of what's already happened this year."

Ethan squeezed her hand gently. "I'll be fine," he maintained.

"Dr Chao makes a very good point, actually." Connie didn't like to concede anything to Lily at this point, however Ethan seemed absolutely set on nothing happening to her as a consequence of this shift. As much as she didn't understand, she felt that she had to remain civil. "I'm not going to authorise your resignation, Ethan - but I'm going to put you on indefinite leave until you're in a better state to decide the details of your future in the ED."

Ethan couldn't meet her eyes, but nodded.

"Are you absolutely certain that this is what you want, Ethan?" Zoe asked him softly.

Ethan didn't know if he'd be able to speak very coherently. He closed his eyes for a second. When he spoke, it was as though he and Zoe were the only two people in the room. "The only thing that I'm absolutely certain of is that I don't want my absence to be a free pass for everyone to tear into Lily. She categorically does not deserve it, after today."

"I don't think there's any need to be concerned about Dr Chao, Ethan," Connie cut in. "Dr Chao, I'm suspending you for a period of fourteen working days due to clear evidence of inappropriate behaviour, which in my opinion was paramount to bullying."

Ethan's jaw dropped. "But -"

"But nothing," Connie went on. "I'm not going to label it as bullying, therefore after the suspension period, you will be free to return, Lily, with no more said about it. There will not be an official investigation, because I don't think Ethan would be willing to give any evidence against you, and without his word there could be no charge."

"Thank you," Lily said, admitting that what she had done couldn't be undone, but could hopefully be forgiven, in time, by Zoe and Connie.

"Dr Chao, you are excused, I will contact you to discuss your return when we get closer to the time." Connie clearly no longer wished to discuss Lily's predicament. The F2 nodded, before gently pulling her hand away from Ethan's and leaving the office.

Zoe watched Ethan sway on his feet in Lily's absence. She really couldn't imagine what had happened between those two, but something had changed, at least. Maybe, she hoped, they had turned a corner and there would be no more pressure from Lily for Ethan to be perfect at everything.

"Ethan, come and sit down, you look absolutely dead on your feet," she said, sitting down at one end of Connie's sofa and gesturing to the other side. He accepted, gratefully, and rested his head on his hands, elbows on knees. Zoe motioned for Connie to give them a moment, and for a few seconds there was a war of glances between the consultant and the Clinical Lead. Obviously Connie objected to being asked to leave her own office, but in the end, Zoe won, using the exhausted registrar as her trump card. Noiselessly, Connie swept from the room.

" Can I get you anything?" Zoe asked him.

"No," Ethan replied, not even summoning the energy to lift his head. "I'm just so tired." Even his voice was weak, and almost hoarse now; through a combination of crying and his desperately dry mouth.

"Was it a panic attack, Ethan?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to guess it was a bad one then, you look like you could sleep for weeks."

"The worst I've had," Ethan admitted, feeling very small.

"And look at you, you're still here. Even with all the bad days that make you want to give up, your survival rate is a full one hundred percent so far. You are strong, Ethan, even if you don't always believe it. You can fight this, and all you have to do is keep trying, no matter how difficult it gets."

"How do you always know what to say?" Ethan asked, finally looking up and pulling a smile from somewhere.

"Years of practice, probably," Zoe said. "But mostly, trial and error."

"Where do I go from here? Everyone knows what a total mess I am, and they're all going to stare as I walk out of here. And literally, where do I go from here, what do I do now?" Ethan felt a knot re-forming in his stomach, and he didn't like it.

Luckily, Zoe took complete control of the situation. "Metaphorically, from here you can only go up. You're going to leave here, and know that anyone who stares can see a young man who is being beyond brave, and surviving everything his own head is throwing at him. You're so much stronger than they are, Ethan." She rubbed his back and he rested his head on his hands again. "And in literal terms, your brother is going to take you home and look after you. And you're not going to be stubborn, you're going to let him, right?"

"Right," Ethan said, wondering whether things really were about to get better.


	24. Chapter 24

**Hi again! Another chapter for you, I hope you enjoy it x**

 **Oh, and if you're the anonymous reviewer from the last chapter, just know that your review absolutely made my day. I had no idea anyone would be that excited to ready my story, so thank you so much for posting to say that it meant something to you for me to update. It meant a lot to me that you felt like that!**

Cal looked over to the passenger seat of his car, where Ethan was staring straight out of the windscreen. He knew his brother would be in no mood to talk about the day's events, and besides, he'd seen pretty much everything anyway. If he was honest, Cal didn't want to know the details of his brother's panic attack; he couldn't bear to imagine Ethan in such a state. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, a habit he shared with his brother, in his impatience to get to Ethan's.

When eventually they reached Ethan's house, Cal took the keys from his brother, not trusting that his hands would be steady enough to unlock the door unaided. Ethan seemed unsure of himself, even now he was back in his own home.

"Go and sit down," Cal said. "I'll get you a drink, and something to eat, which you __are__ going to eat, and then you can go to bed, right?"

"You don't have to," Ethan replied quickly.

"I do. You're my brother, and you've had a shocking day. So I'm going to look after you."

"I'm not a child," Ethan muttered as Cal made his way to the kitchen, but he wasn't really annoyed. More worn out, and fed up of feeling so drained and useless. The sooner he could go to sleep, the better. But there was a niggling feeling of unease; a worry that he would be taunted by nightmares and fear all night. He noticed he was wringing his hands again. He wanted to stop, but his head was just so busy -

"Right," Cal said, interrupting Ethan's train of thought. "That's quite enough of that, you're going to break your fingers if you carry on, and that really will mess you up. Get that eaten, and then you really need some sleep." He put a cup of tea, and a plate of buttered toast in front of Ethan, who didn't look impressed.

"I'm not hungry," Ethan protested.

"Just humour me, let me at least feel like I'm doing something right here bro! I have literally no idea what I'm doing, I'm just trying to take care of you." The older man's voice was genuine in a way Ethan had rarely heard. He wasn't messing around now, he just wanted to do what was right. So Ethan did humour him, gingerly taking a bite of toast. It tasted good, and he found himself regaining some kind of hunger as the butter melted on his tongue.

"And you said you weren't hungry," Cal said, smiling a little and nudging Ethan. Ethan rolled his eyes as much as his sleepy state would allow. He only reached halfway down his cup of tea before his eyelids became even heavier.

"Time for bed said Zebedee," Cal whispered.

Ethan looked at him, faintly amused. "You haven't said that since we were kids."

"Well, it felt like the right thing to say, Little Man." This was something else that Ethan hadn't heard in a long time, and he bit his lip hard to suppress the emotions he was feeling.

Lying in bed, Ethan tried very hard not to reflect on the day. He looked at the clock on the bedside table and tutted when he realised it read 6.50pm. A ridiculous time for someone of his age to be going to bed, even considering the day he'd had. Nonetheless, before the clock ticked over to seven o'clock, Ethan had succumbed to a deep sleep, the likes of which he hadn't experienced for far too long.

He had no idea for how long he'd slept when he eventually opened his eyes and it was sunny outside. __The calm after the storm__ , he thought, __and what a storm it was__. He rubbed his head, which was sore from dehydration and no doubt as a result of the panic attack too. Ethan was surprised to roll over and spot a glass of water and two paracetamol tablets beside the bed. He didn't remember putting them there. In any case, he drank the water and swallowed the tablets, knowing that by the time they took effect, he would have eaten some breakfast so they wouldn't be working on an empty stomach.

Heading downstairs, he realised he also couldn't remember changing into a soft t-shirt and pyjama trousers. How long had he been asleep for? He could hear Cal in the kitchen, and wondered why his brother hadn't gone home last night.

"Why are you here so early?" he asked, without thinking about how oddly that might come out.

"Good morning to you too, Nibbles," Cal replied breezily, raising an almighty blush from Ethan. "I didn't go home last night, I stayed around here in case - in case you needed me - um, in case you needed anything."

"Well, thank you." Ethan pressed his lips together, scanning the kitchen. "Um, what time is it, Caleb?"

Cal checked his watch. "Nearly eleven." Ethan's eyes nearly popped fully out of his head. "Yep, you just slept for a solid sixteen hours, congratulations Dr Hardy."

"That would explain why I've got enough energy to run a marathon then."

"Probably, yes. Look, I was doing some reading last night, after you went to bed -"  
"Oh, you don't have to start reading stuff on how to take care of me or anything, I can muddle through on my own, I'm fine." Ethan felt his cheeks growing warm again, and he couldn't help but clasp his hands together in front of him, his fingernails digging into his skin.

"I'm not going to mother you, I know you don't want that. I was just looking at some stuff, and I printed some of it, so you can look at it in your own time."

"Oh, okay then, I - er, thanks." Ethan wasn't sure what to say. Cal was doing everything right, and he was trying so hard.

After breakfast, Cal asked Ethan if he'd be okay by himself for the afternoon. Ethan decided that he would be, and he'd probably call if anything went wrong.

"Probably?" Cal didn't look too impressed.

"Well, you know me, maybe I wouldn't. When things are bad, the last thing I'd remember would be to call someone."

"Fine." Cal rolled his eyes. "I will call you this evening to make sure you haven't had a meltdown, and that you're eating properly."

"I'm not six!" Ethan protested.

"No, but I'm still going to make sure that you're eating enough, I know you haven't been lately." Cal knew he'd won this fight, because his brother immediately looked down at his cup of tea. Ethan agreed at last, and settled down to a peaceful day, which would, with any luck, be completely hospital and anxiety free.

The house was quiet; Ethan was thankful for this. To create some background noise, he selected a DVD and set it playing before starting to read. He hadn't felt this way for a long time, but allowing himself to fall into the book felt easy today. It was a book he'd read so many times before, but it's familiarity only served to make him feel better. There were no surprises, not plot twists he wasn't expecting. If only the same could be said for his day in reality.

There was a knock at the door at some point in the late afternoon. Ethan's first thought was that Cal had broken his promise, and decided to check on him in person rather than over the phone. But when he opened the door, he took a step back in surprise.

"Hello, Ethan," said Lily.


	25. Chapter 25

**Hi again! Another new chapter, and the end of that cliffhanger that so many people have chastised me for :') I hope this chapter doesn't leave you in as much suspense. I loved writing this chapter, I hope you enjoy reading it.**

 **And to "the same anon" - you continue to be excellent and motivate me to write. I'm sure I don't deserve all the positive adjectives you want to shower me with but I'm grateful that you're enjoying my writing so much.**

Ethan couldn't believe what he was seeing. Was Lily Chao really on his doorstep? And if she was, why? How did she know where to come? Was he in trouble at work - wait, she wouldn't know anyway, being suspended and all that. Ethan attempted to quiet his internal monologue enough to put together a sentence. He was surprised at how difficult this proved to be, after the talking he'd done to Lily yesterday.

"I - er - would you - um - can I -" he stammered, before looking at the ground in embarrassment.

Lily looked at him carefully. "Would it make this situation better or worse if I came inside? It's a little less on show than here on the doorstep, but if you're not comfortable then just tell me to go. Just shut the door on me if that's the easiest thing to do, I promise that I will not be offended." Ethan was stunned. She knew exactly how to handle his anxiety - then again, he reminded himself, she had lived it herself, so of course she knew what would work and what wouldn't.

"Better inside," he said quietly, stepping back to let her in.

"Thank you. I won't take too much of your time, and I'll try not to make you uncomfortable at all."

Ethan made tea, after somehow finding the words to ask Lily how she took it. Returning to the living room, he placed the two cups on the table and sat down next to her. She started to speak before the silence turned awkward.

"I don't want you to think I'm trying to tread on your toes or anything, and I'm certainly not trying to impose, but I wanted to ask you something."

Ethan nodded by way of easy response, and wrapped his hands around the hot cup.

"Have you ever thought about seeing your GP about this? There are a lot of options out there for people like you - people like us." Her correction hung in the air for a moment, until Ethan realised what she was getting at.

At first he just cocked his head slightly to one side in confusion, then he spoke. "Do you mean… you still need help?"

"My demons don't chase me as often these days, but yes. I'm still on a very low dose of the meds I started taking in university. I have this constant reminder of how I used to be, and it should have been a beacon to make me think of what I was doing to you, but it wasn't, and I can't apologise enough for that."

Ethan shook his head. "What's done is done," he said fluently. "You… don't h-have to beat yourself up anymore, because it's not something I even think about."

This was the truth; Ethan no longer though of Lily in terms of the doctor who was so much better than him in every day. Since last night, his only thought had been of the vulnerability she had exposed, and his lasting thought of her was the tearful young woman who was ashamed of her past. He wanted to take this away from her and show her how amazing she could be. But he'd never find the words to express this. They would forever remain unsaid.

Another thought had dogged him for much longer though. It clouded into his mind now, as Lily started to describe with great sensitivity the kinds of talking therapies he could consider if he didn't want to be medicated. He felt so weak and useless, having to have this set out for him by another doctor, one of his colleagues no less, when surely he'd dispensed this advice to patients before now? He knew all this, had a firm grasp of the treatment paths for mental health problems. So why had he spent so long ignoring his problems and hoping they would go away? Why did he have to have all these problems in the first place? A proper doctor would be able to move on with their lives, not dwell on every day's mistakes. Not allow these mistakes to haunt their every move. Doctors at Holby, and everywhere, carried on with their day-to-day duties without fail. Why did he have to be the exception?

He didn't realise there were tears on his cheeks until Lily put a hand on his thigh to break him from his train of thought. Not for the first time, the contact between them felt electric.

"Ethan, what is it?" Lily asked patiently.

"Why c-can't I be normal? Why can't I g-g-get on with things like everyone else?" he replied between sobs. "I want to get better, mmmore than anything else I want this t-to go away. I hate it. It makes me hate myself. I feel like I'm going mad, like I'm being… dragged away and I'm never in c-control."

"You're not going mad," Lily promised.

"Then do I feel like it's taken me away, and there's nothing left?"

"That's what it does. But it will never take you. You're too strong to let this break you, Ethan, I promise that you will come through this. One day it will all feel like a bad dream."

Ethan was wringing his hands furiously. To get his attention, Lily held his wrists apart and looked into his eyes.

"Ethan. If it tries to take you, I won't let you go."

These words washed over him for a few seconds. He could barely believe that he had truly just heard them. Moving carefully until he was holding Lily's hands, he realised he wasn't crying so hard anymore. The frustration and panic had begun to ebb away, as he realised how deeply Lily cared for him.

For a moment, they sat in silence, holding each other's hands as Ethan began to calm down. It took him a few minutes to realise that Lily was rubbing circles on the backs of his palms - an immensely soothing gesture.

Without thinking, Ethan kissed Lily's cheek.

His lips were soft, quivering still from crying so hard. She could feel the tears on his face as their skin touched, and when he kissed her, she suddenly felt alive. And very much like she wanted to kiss him back.

"Ethan," she whispered.

"I'm sorry - I don't - it - sorry," he stammered. "I shouldn't have done that, I'm - I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking, you don't have to -" But he was interrupted by Lily pressing her own lips onto his cheek. His eyes opened wide. Was this really happening?

"I'm here, Ethan. It's going to be okay. It won't always be easy, but I will always be here for you. If it tries to take you, I won't let go."

 **To my shame, _If it tries to take you, I won't let go_ isn't my own turn of phrase. It's borrowed from Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell, which talks about anxiety as it really is, better than any book I've ever read. It's my all time favourite book, so I'd recommend it to anyone looking for a good read! Anyway, enough about writers far superior to me, how did you think that chapter went? I hope the chemistry between Lily and Ethan was believable, I'm so worried about it reading as forced or unnatural, especially when I've been so careful with writing about Ethan's mental health. Let me know what you think with a review xx**


	26. Chapter 26

Lily and Ethan started spending increasing amounts of time together after that fateful afternoon. It became habit, which Ethan liked; Cal would call every morning before work to check Ethan had eaten breakfast (with the younger of the two brothers objected to deeply, because surely by now, Caleb could trust him to take care of himself) and usually Lily would email in the afternoon, to check Ethan's mental temperature. They more or less had a system now, Lily would ask for a number, then suggest little things he could do to occupy his mind and keep the anxiety at bay. Sometime she came round too, not always announced so that he wouldn't have time to worry about it.

It was during one such meeting that she brought up the subject of medication again.

"Have you thought any more about going to see your GP, Ethan?" she asked carefully, taking her mug of tea from the table. They were sitting in the kitchen today, because it was the brightest room in the house in the afternoon. The radio was on, sitting on the window sill above the sink, playing cheesy pop music that eliminated any awkward silence (and cheered them both up, although they would never admit it.) Ethan sighed, and knew his face had fallen. He closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his left eyebrow. Lily had come to recognise this as a sign of thought, and sometimes of a brewing storm. "There's no pressure on it, you know that. I just think it could be really beneficial to you." Ethan looked up at Lily, his eyes wide and afraid. "What are you so afraid of?" she asked quietly. Carefully, she slipped her hand into his across the table.

"I don't want - there's lots of things," he conceded. "I don't want to get to my doctor and for them to tell me I've made it all up, that it's all in my head and there's nothing wrong with me."

Lily smiled a little. With her free hand, she lifted Ethan's chin a little, so that he was no longer staring nervously at the space between them. "That's the whole point. All of it, every last dratted bit of it, is in your head. That's what makes it so bad, Ethan, because you can't just slap a plaster on it to fix it. It clouds your mind until you don't know what's real and what's not, it confuses you and makes everything seem dark, even when it's as bright as anything." She felt Ethan's grip on her hand tighten slightly. "That's what the medication is for. It cuts through the fog, turns the lights back on and reminds you what it is to be truly alive."

"But if I do get put on something -"

"I - I think you might, Ethan," Lily reminded him, biting her lip.

"Okay then. __When__ they put me on something, it becomes real. Do you see what I mean? Right now, I have a problem, yes. But it's my problem, it's not documented, it's not official. As soon as I have a prescription in my hand, it is real. There's a name for what's wrong with me. I'm just another mental health statistic."

Lily looked at him for a moment. His gaze had slipped down to the table again. She lifted his chin and left her hand there briefly, to make sure he was making eye contact with her. "You are never going to be 'just another mental health statistic.' Not to me."

Ethan felt his cheeks grow warm. He wanted to kiss her, properly, but he didn't know how and he'd probably do it wrong. So he did the most affectionate thing he could muster; lifting his other hand from his lap and holding hers with both of his. He smiled.

"Could you - will you come with me?" he asked shyly.

"I thought you'd never ask," she replied with a smile that lifted his mood to the moon.

It was three days before the end of Lily's suspension, and she was sitting beside him in a waiting room, trying to keep him calm. Her hand was resting on top of his, and she rubbed small circles on his palm. There was very little ambient noise; Lily wished that the television on the wall was turned on, because she knew that silence was the anxious person's worst enemy. As were loud crowds, come to think of it, but there was a fine balance to be struck, and this place fell extremely wide of the mark. After what felt like an age, Ethan's name was called, and she followed him into a consulting room.

When the cheerful young GP asked Ethan how she could help today, he seemed frightened into silence. From her seat at the side of the room, Lily could see his struggle. His mouth opened, then closed again, and his eyes looked pained. She knew there were words fighting to get out, but that Ethan's fears had shut down all powers of speech. She stood up, and walked so that she was behind Ethan. She put both her hands on his shoulders, so that he could feel her presence and know that she was with him all the way. Still, he remained silent, and the GP before them looked confused.

"He's not doing this on purpose," Lily said sternly. "He's probably about five minutes from a panic attack," she added, more gently, "so if we could try and keep things calm, that would be great."

"You know that I'm here to listen, Dr Hardy," the GP said, tucking a strand of hair back into the neat chignon at the nape of her neck. "You're not the first health professional to come here with concerns for their mental health, and you certainly will not be the last. Maybe your girlfriend could help explain?"

Ethan spluttered. "She's not - we're not - I -"

"If we could leave the presumptions about our relationship, or lack thereof, for your information, out of this appointment, thank you," Lily said sharply, gently applying pressure to Ethan's shoulders, trying to tell him without words that it was okay, she would handle this the best she could.

She tried her absolute best to describe Ethan's situation accurately, without embarrassing him, without belittling him or making his problems seem ridiculous. He loosened up as the appointment went on, and managed a few words, which Lily was grateful of. Although it obviously made him uncomfortable, it proved a point to the GP who might otherwise have written him off as a time-waster, or assumed that it was just work-related stress.

Twenty minutes later, they were walking to the pharmacy, and Ethan hadn't yet spoken to Lily. She knew that the appointment hadn't gone the way he'd hoped - she had practically been able to reach out and touch his fiercely present embarrassment (she had also wanted to be able to reach out and hold him steady, but it couldn't have happened in front of that GP, who clearly thought she knew everything of worth without asking.) She took his hand now, massaging his fingers to coax them out from the tight fist he'd been holding them in.

"It's going to be alright, you know that, don't you?" she said, trying to gauge his emotions from his face without success.

"Oh yes," he said sarcastically, "when not even my doctor is taking me seriously."

"There will always be people that don't take mental health seriously. Look on the bright side - you have the prescription now, and things will start to look up. And if they don't, then I will personally ensure that you don't have to see that woman again, okay? For goodness' sake, if I was allowed to, I'd write the damned prescription myself, but I can't really see the GMC looking too kindly upon me if I do."

"I wish you could just fix it all for me," he said wistfully.

"Believe me, I wish I could too," Lily replied. "But however it works out, we're going to get through this. I barely need to say this again, but I will, because I know how much I needed reassurance and never got any. We're going to get through it together, okay? You and me."

"The dream team," Ethan said, with a weak smile.


	27. Chapter 27

**Hi! Another update for you, this time we follow Lily on her first shift back in the E.D after her suspension. I'm so pleased with the positive feedback on the last few chapters, it's been great to get reviews again. So let me know what you think of this hot mess (ah, my gloriously low self-esteem strikes again) and I hope you enjoy it x**

Lily paused for a moment outside the E.D. This felt very strange, returning after a mandatory absence. Luckily, her parents hadn't asked any questions, because she'd never have been able to tell them she'd been suspended. She was still monumentally embarrassed by this fact, even though she knew that Ethan wasn't blaming her for anything that happened. She couldn't help blaming herself though, but she was able to push this aside to focus on getting through this shift.

All eyes were trained on her as she walked through the department to Connie's office, which was intensely uncomfortable. Lily was dismayed, when she was permitted to enter the office, to see that Zoe was in there too. The consultant was far more likely to have the whole situation out with her, here and now, where as the Clinical Lead probably wouldn't pursue it too much. Lily ducked her head.

"You're not going to get a telling off from me, if that's what you're worrying about," Zoe said calmly, although she wasn't smiling, as she would have done for Ethan. "I just wanted you to understand, and I hope that you do, now."  
"I do, I promise. I apologise profusely for what happened, it was completely inappropriate and uncalled for." Lily hoped that this would be enough, because she wasn't sure how else to fight her corner.

"It certainly was," Connie interjected, "but I believe Dr Hardy is making good progress, and he doesn't appear to be holding any grudge against you." Lily felt her cheeks growing warm: this was definitely true. Her thoughts dashed to those gentle kisses, then back to the Clinical Lead's office. She suppressed a smile expertly.

"He's doing much better now," Lily reiterated. "I've been spending some time with him, and he's really improving, I think. I mean, he still struggles, but he's on some medication now and -"

"He conceded to medication? Really?" Zoe seemed not to believe what she was hearing.

"Yes," Lily said. She wondered whether what was running through her mind was a wise addition to the conversation. "I'm not taking credit or anything, but I explained how useful it can be, and…" She took a deep breath. "And how helpful it would have been when I was in his position."

Zoe's jaw nearly hit the floor. "You - you knew? You knew what he was going through, and you still acted the way you did?"

Lily looked down at the ground, and said quietly, "I did. I'm not proud of what I did, and I haven't yet made peace with any of it. But Ethan has accepted it, and somehow, for some unknown reason, he's found it in him to forgive me. I don't know how, or why, but I'm trying to help him as best I can."

There was silence for a moment, before Connie spoke, perhaps to stop Zoe losing her temper at this newest revelation. "I think that will be all, Dr Chao," she said formally. "You won't be facing any further sanction; I don't believe Dr Hardy will bring this to a disciplinary hearing. That is not to say that you'll have an easy time today. You have bridges to build, and you know from experiences that grudges are not held lightly in this department."

"Yes, Mrs Beauchamp." Lily nodded before being excused from the room.

Although Lily was determined to have a good shift, to prove that she deserved to keep her place in the E.D, she couldn't help her thoughts drifting occasionally towards Ethan. She was worried about him, there was no point denying it. She knew for a fact that he wouldn't be getting any visitors until this evening, or perhaps tomorrow, not like usual at all. They'd almost had a weird kind of routine for the last fortnight. Unspoken for the most part, but a routine nonetheless. Lily knew that for people with anxiety, routine was good. She resented the fact that this made all anxious people wound like children, but that's the way things were. Secretly, she had rather enjoyed the routine too. She wasn't anxious any more, not by any stretch, but it was nice to have a reason for being, someone relying on her who she enjoyed spending time with. Now she was back in work, however, the routine had been splintered, and she hoped more than anything that this wouldn't be having a negative impact on Ethan.

Despite a more than frosty reception from her colleagues - with the exception of Dylan, who was frosty towards everyone, so she wasn't anything different - Lily tried hard to do well. However, the animosity of other people on the team meant she had to do a lot more legwork than she would have done normally. The tasks which usually would have been assigned to a nurse, none of the nursing team were willing to do, so she ended up drawing bloods, taking them upstairs, and doing all the in-between work with the patients too. By mid-morning, she was mentally exhausted, and tiring rapidly too. She sat down with a cup of tea in the staff room by herself, choosing to absorb herself briefly in a book so that she didn't have to pay attention to the fact that she was being completely blanked by the other occupants of the room.

"Lily?"

Lily looked up at once, preparing herself for a telling off, or a snide comment about not working. But when she realised it was Rita talking, and that the blonde woman had a gentle expression on her face, she couldn't help relaxing a little.

"Are you okay? How long have you been in work now?"

Lily was touched that Rita was showing so much concern for her. She checked her watch, then thought about who was coming into the department at the same time as her. "As long as you, I think. I'm fine."

"You sure about that? Because from where I'm standing, you look totally shattered already, and I've seen you out there, running around like a headless chicken." Rita raised an eyebrow, especially when Lily dropped her eye contact, and looked… almost sheepish? This wasn't the confident, marginally arrogant young woman Rita recognised. "Lily?"

"No, I'm fine, it's just…" She didn't want to say it in here, even though they were speaking in low voices. Not when the table by the door was surrounded by Max, Robyn, Louise and Noel, precisely the people who had been making the last few hours so difficult.

Rita noticed when Lily was glancing. She winked at the doctor, hoping that she would get the message. Then, sharply, she said "Dr Chao, I want to see you in my office in five minutes. I don't expect that of anyone," before turning on her heel and leaving the room. As Lily followed her, not sure what was happening exactly, sniggers shadowed her as she passed the table which felt uncomfortably similar to the "popular" table in the college dinner hall.

When she reached Rita's office, her heart was in her mouth. What on earth was Rita about to say? Lily had just about cottoned on to the fact that she wasn't about to be reprimanded, but what else could this be? The Clinical Nurse Manager was sitting behind her desk, opening a bottle of water. She passed one to Lily after gesturing for the doctor to sit down.

"It might help you feel more awake," she explained. Lily nodded appreciatively, still unsure of what was going on. "Right, out with it," Rita said. "Are that lot making things harder than they need to be?"

"I don't want any trouble," Lily said quickly. "And I don't want them to see me as some pathetic tattle-tale either. But essentially they're not doing their jobs! I've been running bloods upstairs all morning because Max won't take them for me, and I know he's not your concern, but Robyn is, and she won't co-operate with me in the slightest." Lily rested her elbows on the side of the table and put her head in her hands for a minute. "I'm sorry, you don't have to listen to this, I have to get back out there -"

"Not so fast," Rita cut in. "Stop stressing, you've got no need. I'll have a word with Charlie, he'll sort that lot out, Max included, because it's not on, okay? Regardless of what you did, that's over and done with now. Water under the bridge, even if they don't seem to see it that way." Lily nodded, biting her lip. "I wonder how Ethan's getting on now though, I don't suppose you've heard?"

"Um, I have actually. He's doing okay, he started on some meds a few days ago, and I've been talking to him every day. Water under the bridge, or something like that. I think we're friends." She omitted the part when they'd considered being more than friends. That was hers and Ethan's secret for now.

"That's good to hear, I'm glad he's getting the help he needs."

"Me too," Lily agreed, smiling a little for the first time that day.

In the afternoon, Lily's curiosity won out over her desire to be seen as working hard. Things had relaxed considerably after her conversation with Rita - it seemed that Charlie's legendary people skills had worked their magic. The same people who had acted so unpleasantly towards her earlier that day were now being practically amicable. Civil, at the very least. Robyn had even murmured a meek apology, which Lily had accepted (with almost complete sincerity.) But now, she was far too distracted by worrying about Ethan to even consider being thrown into the resus rotation. She slipped out of the department and dialled his number, throwing caution to the wind with his dislike of phone-talking.

Her spirits fell when she heard his glum reply.

"Ethan, how are you doing?" she asked imploringly.

"I don't know."

She sighed silently. He wasn't coping, she could tell. "I think we're past the point of numbers, what's wrong? What can I do?"

"There's nothing you can do, there's nothing wrong with me. I'm just feeling kind of… numb. Nothing, like… empty."

"Good empty or bad empty? I know there's a difference," she said calmly, but still making her intention of looking after him quite clear.

"I don't know, I really don't, okay?" He wasn't losing his temper, he sounded really upset, kind of wounded. Lily was trying to piece together an incomplete puzzle in her head. The best conclusion she could come to was that Ethan's meds weren't helping, in fact they were making things worse. It wasn't unheard of, in fact it wasn't really uncommon. He needed them changing, but his confidence had probably been shaken now, and he wouldn't want to return to his own GP in any case, after their disaster of a last appointment. Making sure she had covered her phone's microphone with her thumb, she half-sighed and half-groaned, leaning heavily against the wall of the hospital. Why was this so difficult? She wasn't blaming Ethan, of course, because this wasn't his fault. Why did mental health have to be so complicated? Internally she laughed at herself for thinking such a stupid question.

"Lily, are you still there?" Ethan asked quietly.

"Of course I am," she replied softly.

"It's kind of dull, like I'm not feeling anything." There was a pause. "Bad empty."

"I'll be there as soon as I can when I finish my shift, okay? I promise. I can't get out early, not today, you know how Mrs Beauchamp is. Just keep breathing, for me, okay?"

"For you, yes. Anything."

Lily's heart would have skipped a beat and flown across the sky if the situation wasn't so serious.


	28. Chapter 28

**The long hiatus is completely unacceptable, but hopefully I can partly make up for it with a long chapter tonight! I am pulling the story to a close soon, I know I've said it before but I really mean it now! Hope you appreciate this chapter – just a warning that there is a slight mention of vomit toward the end, if you're sensitive to that kind of thing.**

Ethan paced around the ground floor of his house. His anxiety was building. Why? He was on meds now, it was meant to be going away, or lessening in intensity at the very least. He didn't want to be feeling like this. Heart pounding in his chest but rising into his throat, he knew the day was going downhill quickly. He didn't know what to do – how would he cope with a panic attack alone now, having spent time wholly supported by Lily? He hadn't really coped alone before Lily either, so he didn't want to think about coping alone now, when he felt guilty and angry for not feeling better. He was tired, exhausted even, but his racing thoughts meant that trying to take a nap wouldn't be successful. One more method of erasing anxiety crossed off the list. Who was he kidding? He didn't have a list. As a doctor, he was aware that he should have known better, but he'd pathetically thought that now he was on medication, he wouldn't have to think about compiling a stock of coping mechanisms. Bitterly, he wondered what he'd wasted his time with over the last three days.

He wanted to walk further than across the sitting room and into the kitchen. Picking up his keys, he headed for the front door and quietly let himself out. The quietness was an anxious habit; desperation not to draw attention to himself even though there was no-one in the house to hear him.

Ethan locked the door behind him and set off down the street. Thoughts dogged him with every step. _Someone's watching you. They think you're going to trip. You are going to trip, you're so clumsy. You can't go back to working in a hospital if you're this clumsy, you'll end up killing someone. The GMC wouldn't let you anywhere near a hospital in this state, never mind Mrs Beauchamp. She'll never let you back in anyway, you had a meltdown in her department. Call yourself a doctor? Why aren't you trusting your meds? Why aren't they working? You're useless, pathetic, a waste of space. Did you lock the front door? Bet you didn't. You need to go back. Someone could just walk in and they'd know straight away how much of a mess you are. Stupid, worthless –_

"Urgh!" Ethan grunted loudly, lashing out and punching the brick wall to the side of him. He was in an alley, heading toward the park, and once his internally-directed anger had subsided, he realised what he'd done. Frantically attempting to put a stop to his thoughts, he'd willed them to stop and then hurt himself to cut through the tangle of overlapping words and cutting remarks. He looked down at his hand as it began to sting. Blood oozed from where the skin on his knuckles had split under the pressure of hitting the wall. It was his dominant hand, and with his other he was hardly capable of checking it out to make sure he hadn't done any significant damage. The blood drained from his face. If anyone saw him now, they'd think he'd been in a fight, or he was running away from the scene of a crime, or –

This had to stop. He couldn't take it anymore. He turned on his heel and almost ran home. The door _was_ locked. He sighed in relief, happy that at least one of his tormenting thoughts was categorically false. Hands shaking, he wriggled the key in the lock with some difficulty and stepped over the threshold, slamming the door shut behind him and leaning against it heavily.

Breathing hard, trying (unsuccessfully) to steady himself, he headed straight for the kitchen. He stood at the sink and turned the cold tap on, gingerly putting his injured hand under the stream of water. He inhaled sharply: this was painful, but it did seem to be helping with the throbbing pain under his skin, as well as obviously cleaning the wound a little. He really hoped he hadn't broken anything in his hand, that really would be stupid. Not that he would be allowed back to work yet anyway, but he definitely wouldn't if he had to keep his dominant hand (or indeed any hand) in a plaster cast.

Ethan felt the sense of unease rise into his throat. His stomach was already in knots, tight ones, and he couldn't get past the thought that he was trying to deal with this alone and he really couldn't. Clumsily, he unlocked his phone with his uninjured hand. With some effort, he tapped the icon to make a call, and selected Lily's name before his fundamental hatred of talking on the phone could interrupt him. One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

Lily, although the image of a struggling Ethan was pinned in the forefront of her mind, was managing to do much better now that the nursing staff were onside. Max wasn't talking to her, but she didn't mind. He was taking her patients where they needed to go, so she couldn't complain.

Towards the end of treating a patient in triage, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. Her heart sank – no-one else would be calling her in the middle of a shift. It had to be really bad; he wouldn't call a second time, surely. Hastily, she left the patient in Charlie's capable hands, and unlocked her phone in the microsecond before she missed the call, thank goodness.

"Ethan," she breathed down the phone.

He didn't even start with his usual pleasantries. "Can you – I don't – I'm sorry, you're busy – It's just – I need," He couldn't vocalise the painful tangle of thoughts in his head, instead stammering disjointed phrases.

"Ethan, would you like me to come?"

He took very little comfort from the steadiness of her voice. Staring at the wall in front of him, he licked his lips and took a very shaky breath.

"Ethan? Don't think for a second that just because I'm here, I can't make my excuses and leave. Don't even consider it, don't put me first. If you need me, I will be there as soon as I can."

"If – I mean," he stumbled again. His eyes stung, and a lump in his throat pushed so hard against his windpipe that he wasn't sure he would be able to speak. "Please, Lily."

"It's okay," she said quietly.

Lily couldn't believe that she was doing this. Under the pretence that she needed a quick breather, she found herself walking quickly away from the hospital, slipping unnoticed from the car park and then breaking into a run in the direction of Ethan's house. A sudden thought pulled her up short and almost made her turn and run back. It wasn't the thought of the Clinical Lead finding out, or of letting Zoe down so dramatically on her first day back in work. It wasn't even of leaving resus without a doctor, although she did push this thought aside to stop it troubling her quite so much. The thought was of Cal, which took her by surprise at first, but it made sense. She paused on a street corner, quite grateful of giving herself some time to catch her breath, and pulled her phone from her scrub pocket. She was very glad of not leaving it in her locker today, as hospital guidelines would have preferred. Lots of rule-breaking today, but what did it matter now, when she was helping someone important to her?

 _Cal, Ethan is not good, please cover for me but don't get yourself into trouble. I'm heading over there and will call you if I have to._

She received a reply before she reached Ethan's front door – clearly she wasn't the only one breaking hospital protocol today (but she suspected that Cal rarely observed this particular requirement.)

 _Keep me updated, okay? Just make sure he's alright, I'll handle the situation here._

Lily sighed with relief. On reaching the door, Lily knocked but received no response. "Please, come on Ethan, I know this is hard but please come to the door," she whispered, her hand resting on the handle. Surely he wouldn't have been in so much of a state as to leave the door unlocked? She tried, on the off chance that this was true, and almost cried when the door swung open before her.

She knew this was a delicate situation. She didn't want Ethan to panic more that he'd left the door open, and that she'd been able to just walk in.

"Ethan, where are you?" she called, standing at the bottom of the stairs and hoping her voice would carry both upstairs and through the ground floor. Silence. She was about to call again when she heard a weak shout from upstairs.

"Here."

Her shoulders sagged; the voice was defeated, tired and disappointed. "I'm coming, it's okay. I'm here now."

It wasn't a pretty sight that greeted Lily. Ethan leaned weakly against the bathroom wall, his face streaked with tears which shone out against his pale skin. She sat next to him and immediately took his hand in hers. He started to cry, and stuttered an apology before leaning against her as his deep, shuddering sobs took the last of his strength away.

"Don't even think about apologising Ethan. This is not your fault, okay? You are not to blame for this, and as bad as you feel right now, we both know that it will pass. I know that it's near on impossible to believe from where you are, but it is going to be alright in the end. This will pass," she repeated, feeling Ethan tense against her. "Ethan?"

But he wasn't listening. She could feel him tensing up uncomfortably, and his lip quivered in a way she couldn't mistake for anything else. Helping him up at once, she steered him towards the toilet before he lost all dignity by vomiting on himself. When he was finished, she rubbed his back one final time, before passing him some tissue to wipe his streaming eyes.

"Don't say it," she pre-empted as they leaned back against the wall. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Mental illness is not pretty, it's not always as invisible as we might like it to be." She took his hand again and rubbed circles into his palm. "It's going to be okay, you're not alone. You don't have to do this by yourself. I am here and I will continue to be here as long as you want me to be."

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse. They sat in silence for a while.

"The good news is, you're probably feeling better now, after all that," Lily said reassuringly.

"Yeah. Tired though."

"That's to be expected, don't worry about it." Lily thought for a moment. "I should probably go back and face the music in the E.D."

"Don't sound too excited," Ethan said, breaking a small smile.

"Now that's what I like to hear. That sense of humour that I love – like so much," Lily corrected herself hastily.

On the promise that she would return later, and that Ethan was to call either herself or Cal if things went wrong again, she made her way back to the hospital.


	29. Chapter 29

**Hi :) It's been a while! Uni is hard, like really hard! Not necessarily with finding the time to write, but finding the patience, inclination and headspace, sometimes! But here's another chapter for you, I hope you enjoy it xx**

Lily hadn't been back in the department for more than thirty seconds, when Cal descended on her.

"Is he alright?" he asked in a low voice, eager not to draw attention to the fact that Lily hadn't been in the E.D for quite some time. He looked at Lily, and his face fell as hers did.

She didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but equally she couldn't lie to Cal. "Uh, he's better now," she started carefully. "You know what it can be like, sorting out psych meds. It's not going to be an easy ride. We'll try again, try something else, and…"

Cal sighed. "Yeah."

"I know it's not what either of us wanted to hear." Lily's reply was short.

"No, I guess I thought it would be over now."

Lily smiled a little. "So did he. You two are more alike than you know." As Connie walked briskly past the two doctors, Cal thrust a file into Lily's hands so she would look busy, for which she was extremely grateful.

Cal waited a moment, considering what he was going to say. "My brother thinks the world of you." He watched as Lily ducked her head and a slight pinkness appeared in her cheeks. Surely there wasn't anything going on between those two? "I guess we're both working towards the same goal of sorting him out, right? So, we should probably put old grievances to bed."

"Agreed," Lily said, looking up and recovering herself from her momentarily lapse of personality.

* * *

With new medication came a new grace period, of Ethan feeling like his old self again.

He felt so much better now – a week passed where he was able to take control of his mind, instead the other way around. Then a second week passed, and a third, and he began to believe that perhaps things would be okay this time.

The change that Ethan was most grateful for was that surrounding his speech. His stammer had all but faded away now, and he'd never felt freer, now that he could communicate like a normal human. Lily had berated him, the first time she'd heard him refer to other people as "normal humans" because that's when she realised truly that'd he'd seen himself as abnormal and subhuman. She hated that this belief had been rooted in his psyche for so long. She was doing her best, now that he felt okay in himself, to build his confidence back up so that he would be ready to return to the ED.

Simple things, really, like going out for coffee and sitting in the middle of the shop, rather than in a corner where he would prefer to be. Curiously deviant acts too, like taking him into a library (not their local one, she didn't want to send him spiralling backwards) and striking up a conversation at a normal volume. At first, he'd looked at her like she was crazy, then he'd broken into a beautiful smile (she couldn't help herself labelling his smile as anything else, these days) and laughed a little, before mirroring her behaviour.

Lily took great care to respect the boundaries Ethan had so carefully constructed to protect himself from his mental illness. Often, she would let him choose what they were going to do, giving him back some of the control over his life that he so desperately craved. He had begun teaching her to play chess. At first she had wondered why he would be teaching her such a quiet and individual activity, when he so obviously wanted to work on making himself better in situations which made him uncomfortable. She realised quite quickly that he was practicing using his voice again, and to hear him speak with something resembling confidence was incredible. When he was explaining how each piece moved, his voice was similar to how it had been before any of this started: while his mother was still alive. It was the voice she'd envied when she heard it drift through the ED. It was calm, steady, but above all it was warm, and there were usually such kind words being said with it. There were kind words escaping Ethan's lips now – he was being so patient with her, when she knew she would have given up on herself a long time ago. Her internal monologue was like a petulant child _"But_ _ **why**_ _can't I put the bishop there? And why can't I just do_ _ **this**_ _with the king?"_

"You know," she said, breaking the silence gently, "if you ever decide that medicine isn't for you, then maybe education will be the way forward."

Ethan looked firmly down at the chess board between them. "I wouldn't have the authority, and you know it."

Lily didn't pursue the matter: it wouldn't be constructive. She studied her pieces, their white plastic forms making no sense at all in her mind. Choosing at random, she went to pick up her queen. Before she'd touched the piece, she felt Ethan's hand over hers, guiding her hand onto the kingside castle instead. She allowed her hand to be manipulated like a fairground claw machine, moving the castle forward before setting it down again. She furrowed her eyebrows, looking at the board.

No way.

"Check…" she started uncertainly. Looking up to meet Ethan's eye, she saw him glancing at her encouragingly. "Check… mate?"

He nodded proudly, smiling at how impressed she seemed to be with herself. "Tea?" he asked, poker face fully intact. She would never know that he'd let her win.

"Please," Lily replied. "With a dash of milk and-"

"And a spoon of brown sugar." Ethan finished her sentence for her.

* * *

She pushed him out of his comfort zone too: one evening they ate out, and there was something amiss with her meal, but she asked him if he'd be comfortable making the complaint. To her surprise, he obliged at once, and his cheeks only flushed when the exchange was over. Strangely, he only seemed to become slightly flustered when she tried to pay her half of the bill. He refused to allow this, and paid for the meal himself.

"Ethan," she said quietly, as they left the restaurant. "You really didn't have to do that; I could have paid my share."

"I -I know," he replied, and she watched him blink slowly and inhale deeply, pushing his stammer aside. "You've done so much for me these past few weeks though, I wanted to do something nice for you, for a change, because you don't look out for yourself nearly as much as you deserve."

It was Lily's turn to blush as she inhaled sharply at the shock of hearing these words. She pulled her coat closer around her: now that it was dark it was much colder than it had been during the day. Ethan stopped walking. Lily did the same - what was he doing? She turned to face him, and saw him undo his scarf under his own coat. He stepped closer to her, and with quivering hands, he wrapped the scarf deftly around Lily's neck, tucking it carefully into her collar. They stood for a moment on the pavement, only a few inches between them, their breath rising and intertwining in white puffs above their heads. There seemed to be an electrical current in their eye contact: neither was willing to break it.

The sound of a car horn in the next street brought them both back to earth with a start. Lily could see Ethan start to breathe faster.

When Lily tried to speak, it took a moment for the words to reach her mouth, as though her head was full of treacle. Treacle that smelled of Ethan's aftershave – a gentle, yet tantalising scent which escaped from the fibres of his scarf.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, not sure if she could manage a longer sentence with her mind in this state.

Ethan seemed to consider things for a moment, before almost unnoticeably shaking his head. "I think I need to go home now," he said, making eye contact with her again, but this time there was no light in his eyes at all.


	30. Chapter 30

**Here it is, at long last: the conclusion! This story has taken so long to write, and I can only apologise for that. It has been especially difficult of late - I'm a trainee teacher now, out on placement for the very first time.**

 **I think out of all my stories, this one means the most to me, because I've been able to express some of my own experiences of mental health difficulties more so than in any of my others. It means an awful lot to come to its close, and finally find a somewhat happy ending for Ethan and Lily! It was so important to me to come to a satisfactory end, especially because my mental health has seemed to have got in the way of so much (including, selfishly, writing a story which is obviously a separate entity to me!)**

 **But I hope it's satisfactory to you too, please do leave me a review and don't mind me gettiong emotional and ruminating over this chapter, which, to be fair, is no more important than any of the others. If you've been waiting on this for a long time, I'm sorry, but enjoy it nonetheless.**

 **Caitlin x**

* * *

Lily's head was sore. She blinked her eyes once or twice, trying to shake the groggy feeling that suggested she hadn't fallen asleep voluntarily. She tilted her head from left to right, not happy with how stiff and painful this was. Looking around, she realised with a start that she was in Ethan's bedroom, slumped against the foot of his bed – which at least explained why she was so stiff. She stretched her arms out, making her shoulders click, and a thick woollen blanket slipped from around her shoulders. Had it been there when she'd fallen asleep? Rubbing the space between her eyebrows, she strained her memory, trying to recall the events of last night, or even the circumstances which had led her to falling asleep in this position.

It took a moment for her to realise that she wasn't wearing her glasses anymore, and she was absolutely certain that she would have been wearing them right up to the point of falling asleep. She looked around, concerned, then found that they had been placed neatly to her left, with a glass of water.

 _Okay,_ she told herself, _time to back-track and work out how on earth I ended up here, of all the places I could be._ Lily took a moment, eyes closed, to force her memory into throwing up something useful.

* * *

 _"What can I do?" she asked helplessly, watching Ethan pace up and down the sitting room for what felt like the hundredth time. He wasn't in a good place at all, she knew, but right now she had no idea how to help. Her head was slightly fuzzy – she'd always been a lightweight when it came to alcohol and she hadn't wanted to appear rude by turning down Ethan's offer of a glass of wine. It had obviously been stronger than she'd anticipated – or perhaps her medication, being different to Ethan's, reacted differently to the presence of alcohol in her system, despite the low dosage._

" _Just," Ethan began, before words failed him and he just shook his head. He paused for a moment and sat down heavily next to her on the couch. "You can't stay long." He looked up to the clock, which was ticking toward eleven o'clock. His breathing was becoming erratic. "I don't want you getting into trouble on my account." He was of course referring to the fact that she was expected in the E.D at half past seven in the morning._

" _You know full well that I have no intention of leaving here until you're okay," she replied. "I don't care whether it takes all night. You are not alone in this, all right?"_

 _Ethan took Lily's hand lightly. His palm was hot, in contrast to her skin which hadn't yet warmed up from outside. She squeezed his hand to remind him that she was in it for the long haul with him. This episode of panic and anxiety could last another fifteen minutes or another fifteen hours, but she didn't care. She was going to stay and ride out the storm, because she'd be damned if she let anyone go it alone when she knew how terrifying it could b_

* * *

Now concerned for Ethan's welfare, Lily turned around sharply, but his bed was empty. Where could he have gone? She looked down at her wrist, where she was aware of her watch digging into her skin – she didn't usually sleep whilst wearing it because it had an uncomfortable tendency to wriggle into her forearm and dig deep pink grooves in her skin. Rolling her eyes, she undid its clasp and let it fall onto the carpet beside her.

Then, she listened intently. There was usually birdsong at the time when she got up. Granted, she wasn't at home, but even so, surely there should be more signs of it being early morning? Gritting her teeth, she picked up her watch and looked at its face as if it might explode at any minute.

Although the watch did not explode, Lily's eyes nearly popped out of her head when she focused on the time. Quarter past twelve. In the afternoon. When she should have arrived in the ED at seven thirty that morning.

* * *

 _Ethan couldn't breathe. There were too many thoughts racing in his mind, and with his chest on fire like this, he couldn't concentrate on any of them. It was as if he was alone in a desolate wasteland – really, that's what the panic attack felt like. Tears pricked his eyes; every breath seemed painful and devoid of oxygen. His vision seemed to have tunnelled: he knew his hands shook violently but his awareness of Lily being in the room with him was minimal._

 _Her voice seemed distant, when she said quietly, "I'm going to take you upstairs. It will be quieter there."_

 _Every step up the stairs was like a marathon. Every breath he took seemed to set his lungs on fire anew. He wanted this hell to be over._

 _Lily led him into his room, somewhere that she hoped he would see as a "safe place." She hadn't expected it to be so hard to keep herself calm. It was difficult to keep her own breath steady when he was breathing at over twice his usual rate. She could see fear in his eyes, and other things too: tears, embarrassment and pain._

 _"Lily, I want it all to stop," he whispered, defeated. A sigh came next, a whoosh of air followed by a sharp in-breath which shuddered and came in more than one part. He rubbed his forehead and Lily knew that dizziness would be hitting him soon – an unpleasant side effect of hyperventilation._

" _Do – do you mean that you want me to go?" It was a crushing realisation._

" _No." The sound of his breath was like desperate sobs, although the tears stayed firmly in his eyes, glistening in the half-light of Ethan's bedside lamp. "I just want – my head – to be – quiet." His words were punctuated with breaths, and Lily held his hands tightly. "I – forgot – how much it – hurts – when it all goes – wrong."_

 _Lily felt tears prick her own eyes but she wouldn't allow herself to get upset. He didn't need that, not now. "That isn't a_ just _. I know how hard it is, and we both know that quiet will come. Just concentrate on your breath. I know that this is difficult for you, but I promise that it will end soon."_

 _Ethan pulled one hand free of Lily's hold, to place it on his chest and the base of his collarbones. Lily flashed briefly back to the anxious period in her own life. She remembered the sensation too well: breathing but feeling as though nothing was changing. The memory of the sensation made the back of her neck prickle uncomfortably. Ethan's lungs, although perfectly medically functioning, would feel empty and useless, only adding to the fear raising its ugly head within him. Tenderly, she took the hand, his left, away from his chest and pressed two fingers to his pulse spot. As expected, Ethan's pulse fluttered rapidly beneath his skin._

" _You know that if I could take this away from you, I would, don't you?" She looking into his eyes._

 _To her surprise, Ethan took his head. "I don't want – you – to feel like this – ever."_

 _Her heart swelled. "No, if it would mean you felt better at this moment, I would take it in a second. You are improving, more than you know. You have done so well, and I am so proud of the steps you've made. This does not define you."_

 _It took an agonising length of time, but slowly, Ethan's breathing began to return to normal._

" _My hands are tingling," he observed, turning them over in front of him._

" _Your breathing was out of equilibrium for a long time, that's why," Lily reminded him._

" _Yes."_

 _Lily stood up slowly. She checked her watch. It really was very late, but she couldn't leave him now. The odds of him falling back into his panicked state were immense at the moment, and she couldn't bear to let that happen. She made her way over to the well-stocked bookcase by the window. Out of Ethan's sight, she rubbed her eyes: tiredness was catching up with her. Running her fingertips over a line of books, she fell upon a paperback which had been opened and closed so many times, if the creases in the spine were anything to go by._ To Kill a Mockingbird.

 _Lily retook her previous position beside Ethan, and began to read aloud. "_ When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the –"

" _Lily, you really don't have to do that. You have to be in work, you need to sleep," Ethan interrupted._

" _I saw a patient do this once, and it might work for you. I don't care what time it is, I am staying."_

 _If it had been daylight, if the evening's events had never passed, they both would have seen how irregular this was. Ethan accepted that Lily wasn't going anywhere, and put his arm out, letting her lean into his shoulder while he held her to him. "Thank you," he whispered into her hair. The thought of falling softly into Maycomb with Lily by his side was so inviting._

 _There was an unspoken exchange between them, somewhere around the middle of the third page, and Ethan carefully took the book from Lily's hands and began reading where she had left off._

 _When Ethan was reading, Lily could see that his mind was somewhere else completely. His breathing became more and more regular, and she could no longer see his shirt quiver over his heavy heartbeat. His voice was rhythmic and soothing – if she didn't know any better, she wouldn't have thought he'd been in the clutches of a panic attack such a short time ago. She felt her eyelids droop, and it had to be her turn to read soon. Lightly, she took the book from him, lingering for a moment to unwrap each of his fingers from the soft paper cover._

" _You're tired," Ethan said. "We don't have to carry on."_

 _Lily cleared her throat, suppressing a yawn as she did so. "No, I'm fine, I'd like to keep reading. You're like the tiger who would only relax when his keepers played Brahms. If this is what it takes for you to stay out of that dark place, then I will keep going."_

 _She broke into the next chapter, and then the next, because she didn't trust herself to stop reading and stay awake._

 _All at once, her throat felt sandpapery and her eyes couldn't quite focus on the words anymore._

 _Ethan had been listening to Lily's words for some time when he heard her voice slur with tiredness, and felt her lean against him a little more heavily._

" _I'm okay, Lily," he murmured. "You can stop."_

 _She let the book slip down into her lap but didn't cease leaning on him. "Are you sure?" she asked groggily._

" _Positive."_

 _He paused, feeling her body move with each steady breath. He couldn't have dreamed of this situation, it could only be both of their exhaustions acting, the night taking over._

" _Lily – I – I love you." There was no response, and at first, Ethan was terrified that he'd said the wrong thing. He was ready to issue his sincerest apology, when he felt Lily shifting position, turning to look at him._

 _Although her appearance was tainted with sleep, she shuddered, holding back a sob. "How?" she said, her voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper. "How could you love me, when I was so hateful to you? I made this worse, I made you worse, I couldn't bring myself to do anything nice for you, I –"_

" _Stop." Ethan said. "Lily, I was at rock bottom when you decided to help me. I was ready to give up, I-" He paused a moment, knowing that under normal circumstances he would never have admitted this. "I didn't want to live anymore. I'm sorry." He apologised quickly, seeing tears spill out of Lily's eyes. "Lily, look at me." He took her face between his two hands, gently caressing her cheeks to wipe away her tears. She blinked. "Lily, you taught me to love myself again, and that's why I love you."_

 _Neither one was sure who started it, but then they were kissing, and then they were hugging each other. And then they were leaning against Ethan's bed, still sitting on the floor but in a happy, exhausted bundle._

* * *

Lily supposed that it must have been shortly after this that she fell asleep. But where was Ethan now? All of that seemed so long ago now, but she wanted to find him to check that it was even real.

She made her way downstairs, into the kitchen. Ethan was there, thank goodness, looking a little tired, but nonetheless all right.

"Um, good morning," she said.

"Afternoon, more like." Ethan's reply was laced with his smile. That beautiful smile, that reminded her of last night – this morning, actually, if her memory was to be trusted (although she wasn't sure that it could be trusted) because she was sure she could remember looking at the clock and seeing four o'clock come and go.

"I – I'm sorry, I really need to go, I should be in work, I'm already so late and Mrs Beauchamp -"

"Mrs Beauchamp knows exactly where you are," Ethan said, his smile getting even wider. "I called the E.D earlier, because you were out for the count and it wasn't fair to wake you."

Lily couldn't believe it. Ethan hated using the phone, and he was especially nervous about speaking to the Clinical Lead.

"You called Mrs Beauchamp, for me?"

Ethan nodded. "I'd call Buckingham Palace, for you," he added sheepishly, looking down.

"Good thing I don't work there then, or you might have had to," Lily replied. "I'm so proud of you, I know you don't like using the phone." She fiddled with her watch – she hadn't put it back on yet, but she was holding it in her hands. "Ethan, I – I'm not sure what happened, last night I mean, my head's kind of fuzzy and I can't remember, it's probably with falling asleep so late."

Ethan's cheeks turned pink. "I think that whatever you're thinking, is probably right. And I'm sorry if I imposed anything on you, I know that you don't need all of this." He gestured to himself. "You've got your own issues, and you don't need someone like me to remind you of all that. I'm sorry if last night was a mistake, you don't have to be a psychologist to know that this isn't normal."

"Who said that I wanted normal?" Lily said. "Last night, you said that you loved me."

"And I still mean it, I mean, only if that's what you want."

"Ethan, I love you too."

"Oh." He smiled bashfully. "No, that's not what I meant, I meant -" He started to wring his hands, but Lily came over and held them apart, loving and gentle yet still firm enough to mean that she was unequivocally there for him.

"I know what you meant," Lily replied. "And I mean the same."

"Um, tea?" Ethan asked, the only thing he knew would be right in any given situation.

"Tea."


End file.
